Serendipity
by Isolith
Summary: AU. Some moments in life are worth preserving, and some are even worth repeating. Somehow, in a world of small probability, Sergeant Flynn strikes up acquaintance with an unlikely counterpart that ripples through their timeline till the present. Flynn/Raydor.
1. Chapter 1

**SERENDIPITY**

 _Summary: AU. Some moments in life are worth preserving, and some are even worth repeating. Somehow, in a world of small probability, Sergeant Flynn strikes up acquaintance with an unlikely counterpart that ripples through their timeline till the present. Just a little background story that turned into a longer story. Flynn/Raydor, MC + pre-closer era, a bit of this and a bit of that ;)_

 _AN: I haven't written anything for ages so this was me trying (read: forcing) myself to get into putting more than two words together. It was somewhat of a success ;)_

…

 _Every night was cold as ice,_

 _Until you held me close through the night,_

 _Can we go back, to you, to me?_

 _Someday_

…

 **/1a/**

"We need to talk," Captain Sharon Raydor greeted Andy without preamble the moment he opened his front door. Her somewhat rigid stance in the black signature trench coat put him on instant guard. She had perfected the image of looking carved out of stone, her painted lips pursed and green eyes not giving any indication as to her intentions or feelings.

"Huh," he grunted in greeting, eyeing her with a suspicious feeling. It confounded him that she, of all people, would be incessantly ringing his door bell on a Friday afternoon and demand that they needed to talk.

Her eyes narrowed as he continued to simply stand in the doorway, not inviting her in.

"Talk about what exactly?" Andy asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "We don't have anything to talk about – as far as I know…"

Her lips pressed harder together and if he wasn't mistaken, there was a glint of frustration in her eyes. It quickly evaporated as she tilted her head and then her lips parted into an annoyed smile.

"Are you going to interrogate me on your doorstep?" her eyebrow arched and her smile turned more wry.

"Yes, why not?" he countered, "We're not exactly friends."

Exasperation became more obvious in her features, she shook her head, obviously annoyed with him.

"Lieutenant," she sighed, her expression softening considerably. "Andy, can we please go inside?"

"Fine," he relented, his bearing in contrast was not soft. He stepped back and opened the door wider to let her in, feeling sure he was going to regret it.

"Thank you," she retorted back sharply, the tone matching his in hardness.

She swept past him in a huff, her composure once again stone cold. He gave the door a little shove and it closed with a small ominous click while he watched as she took off her trench coat. She had a neat work-attire underneath it. She hung the coat up on the rack, neatly sweeping one of the sleeves, straightening it out with her hand.

Andy stuffed his hands down into his pockets and watched her silently, his mind traveling down several unpleasant paths as to the reason for her visit. Last time she sought him out, she had been investigating him on a claim of use of excessive force. He racked his mind for any such possible recent wrongdoings.

Andy gritted his teeth and stared hard at her back, lost in thoughts, while she took off her black high heels and held onto the wall for balance.

"Are you investigating me again? A new bullshit claim from a butt-hurt creep?" he asked in a venomous tone.

"What?" she turned around with a confused expression, then realization dawned on her and he watched as her eyes softened a bit, "No, I am not investigating you."

Andy blew out exasperated air, the anger he had begun to feel roil inside him lessened with each exhalation; as long as she wasn't investigating him for some stupid charge, he had no reason to get angry.

Her eyebrow lifted in a neat arch and her tone was amused when she commented, "Do you feel like I should be investigating you, Lieutenant Flynn?" she paused to deliberately look smug, "Hmm? Anything you want to get off your mind?"

"Ah, knock it off – it was the only reason I could come up with, okay? You're not in the habit of seeking me out for a sweet small talk."

"I know," she replied, her voice noticeably softer, "and normally, I wouldn't 'seek you out' as you put it, but circumstances require…" she hummed, "that we have some sort of talk."

"You're not making any sense, Captain," his voice sounding as confused as he felt.

She sighed and then glanced down the hallway with a distant look in her eyes, "Can we go sit down? Perhaps in your living room? Or are you always so impolite to your guests that you talk in this hallway, looming over them?"

"Geez," Andy sighed but cracked a little amused smile nonetheless. "You want tea too? Or coffee perhaps? I could make you a cake as well…"

"There's no need for sarcasm, lieutenant," she said in a pleasant velvety tone, and then with a sideways glance, humor filling the depths of her eyes, "Coffee would be nice."

Andy led her into his living room and then left her there while he went to his kitchen. He appreciated being able to gather his thoughts alone and brewing some coffee was a good excuse.

When he came back to the living room, Raydor was sitting on the couch. Her head was turned and for a short moment he witnessed her unfiltered. Her hands lay absently in her lap and there was definitely uncertainty in her eyes. It quickly disappeared when she looked up and caught him looking, and was replaced by the same confident look that she always held when working. He placed the tray with two coffee cups he was carrying on the table next to the couch.

She took one of the cups with a small grateful smile, the lines around her eyes crinkled most becomingly. They were not exactly young anymore, and yet she still looked as beautiful as the first day he had met her. Not a fact he would clue her in on, though.

Andy sat down across from her in a recliner, sipping his coffee while he waited for her to speak.

She stayed silent, sipping coffee and looking around the living room avoiding his stare.

"So?" Andy asked after five minutes had passed, the awkwardness beginning to feel like a heavy blanket pressing down on him, and the Captain did not appear very forthcoming.

"Hmm?" she hummed, obviously stalling.

"You wanted to talk," he prodded, a tinge of pique in his tone.

Her eyes centered on him, her chest rising as she took a deliberate breath as if to steady herself, not that he could tell she was nervous from her expression.

"I need you to keep what I am about to tell you, completely to yourself," she said, a genuine little slip of uncertainty in her voice, "It's a confidential matter, and, honestly, I shouldn't even be telling you at this time, but I feel it is necessary."

"Of course," he nodded, curiosity making its presence known as he perused her expression, looking for clues, "I can keep a secret or two, as long as you're not here to ask me to help you bury a body…" The joke did its job, a small smile creeping out from under her serious façade.

"I can assure you, lieutenant, I am not in need of a partner in crime."

Andy shrugged, "oh well, then what sort of secret do you feel you have to talk to me about?" He smiled, feeling devious. "What sorta skeletons does Captain Raydor have in her closet? Huh?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her amusement, "my closet is skeleton free."

"Okay, then enlighten me. What's on your mind?"

She took another deep breath and then started to explain, "some things are about to change and I thought it would be necessary to reflect upon what that means – for you and me."

Andy's instantly smile fell off, "What changes?"

There was a strange heavy feeling forming in his abdomen as he took the words in. He realized that he knew what she was about to say before she said it.

"They are offering me a transfer, a promotion if you will," she said, the words were clear even if her tone had lowered somewhat. He could detect a myriad of feelings blending together in her eyes, apprehension and pride foremost.

She did not have to elaborate; there was only one feasible transfer within the LAPD that would land her on his doorstep, wanting to talk. It had been on the horizon since the chief had resigned, they wouldn't leave Provenza in charge indefinitely.

"You're taking over Major Crimes," Andy pointed out, watching her eyes as he clenched his jaw.

She gave a small nod; her eyes holding his, they were both trying gauge the other's reaction. It felt like an absurd situation. Like the world was throwing everything off course. He continued to be silent and simply stared at her while apprehension began to dominate in her gaze. He noticed the nervous little tilt of her head, her mouth parting but then closing again.

"I guess congratulations are in order then, huh?" Andy said to break the silence.

Her lip quivered a bit and he could tell she knew he was not being sincere, her eyes hardening.

"I don't particularly want to disclose the nature of our past acquaintance to my superiors – especially seeing I do not want to let Taylor nor Pope in on what happened," she said, the words enunciated as if she was speaking to a child.

"It's in the past," Andy agreed, "so don't disclose anything."

"That's all very easy for you to say."

"How so?"

"It's my career and reputation on the line if it gets out."

"You won't see any talk from me, heck I don't particularly want Taylor or Pope to know either… It's no one's business but our own."

"I know. But so far, it's been manageable because we've been in different divisions. We are going to be in the same command chain, Andy, I will be your captain. That's a whole different world," she pointed out.

Andy shrugged, "Makes little difference to me. This last year you've practically been living in our murder room, snooping around and everything."

She rolled her eyes and then bit out sarcastically, "And that went fantastically. You hardly ever yelled at me, am I right?"

"I've been nice," Andy said, disagreeing.

Her eyebrow arched high, disbelief written across her face, "You've been an ass to me!"

Andy couldn't help but smile as he shook his head, but then he soured when he thought about things to come. Every scenario he played out in his head, ended just short of disastrous.

"So, what – you expect me to transfer or something?"

She rolled her eyes, disregarding his hardened tone completely, "of course not, I want to make it work."

"Well, I can be cordial," Andy said as he nodded, thinking to himself that it didn't sound very believable.

She did not seem to believe the words.

"To a certain point," he added, even when he knew this would only infuriate her.

She looked away and he watched her features harden. When she looked back at him again, there was defiance in her eyes, dark and full of fire.

"I was hoping we could start over," she said, nothing in her voice betrayed how her eyes were blazing with anger, and he knew that look too well. She was daring him to antagonize her in some way, and if he fell into that trap again, then she would strike out in some venomous way.

"Start over?" he repeated, his voice shrill. He flushed a bit in embarrassment that he lost his composure and cleared his throat, "How?"

She took a sip of her coffee and then gave him a small, somewhat weak smile, "You'll be my subordinate. Treat me like you would any superior officer."

Andy laughed dismissively, "I don't usually sleep with my superiors."

Her cheeks blushed a nice shade of red and for a short moment again, he was reminded of her in a different way; the reddish sheen highlighted with sweat. She avoided his eyes, her line of sight now on her coffee cup again.

When she looked up again, there was a small upcurve to her smile, "Good thing we're not sleeping together then, hmm."

"Anymore," he clarified.

She rolled her eyes.

After a beat of silence, she pursed her lips and he knew she meant business.

"So?" she enquired of him.

"So?" he repeated back, this time he was the one stalling. He was trying to imagine working with her on a daily basis; maybe not every scenario would end in disaster, maybe in some weird fashion they could make it work.

Her smile was wan, close to a little sad.

Andy couldn't imagine it was every day she got offered the opportunity to get out of internal affairs, especially not to such a lucrative position as captaining Major Crimes.

"I think we will be fine," he assured her promptly, not really giving it too much thought, "I'll behave and we can start over, as lieutenant and captain."

Her smile blossomed and he was taken into the past, remembering that smile and how it had enticed him back then.

Before getting too lost in remembering the past, Andy joked, "It's not me you have to worry about, though."

"Oh?" she looked genuinely confused.

"Nope, it's everyone else, well, particularly Provenza… he will throw a fit or two I'm sure, and Sanchez will be less than thrilled."

"Ah well," she gave him a challenging smile, "I thrive in antagonistic environments."

He laughed, feeling the tension between them evaporate, "Don't you ever."

Her smile was contagious, even if the whole nature of change was beginning to dawn on him.

They sipped from their respective coffee cups, a creeping feeling of being in too deep waters began to form under Andy's skin as the silence prevailed for a while. However, her smile lingered, and if she could see the positive outcome from this, well at least he could try.

...


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed, and thus brightened my days with all the lovely feedback. I do hope you enjoy the next part. =)

...

"Hey Sergeant Poppins, over here," Andrew Flynn hollered as he waved one hand lazily in the air. His eyes followed the brunette from the moment he recognized her familiar form when she entered the room. Her narrowed gaze took in the cafeteria with some form of aloof distance. It was only half past 6 in the morning, he knew from previous years attending this godforsaken seminar that she was up at the crack of dawn – just like him. Andy wagered the rest of the buffoons were still sleeping off the welcoming festivities from the night before.

Her narrowed gaze did not ease much when she saw him, the nickname he had given her a year back lingered in her expression.

"I got you a cup of coffee," he said by way of greeting, "Black like tar."

"Why thank you, Sergeant Flynn," Sergeant Raydor said in a sugary voice, a smirk of disdain on her painted lips, but nonetheless she took a seat next to him.

"You're welcome," Andy shrugged, watching her sit down and contemplate the cup of coffee.

Andy lifted an eyebrow when she continued to simply stare at the black beverage.

"I didn't poison it," he commented dryly.

She looked up, "hmm?"

"Not even a grain of sugar in it."

"Isn't that what a guilty poisoner would say?" she wrapped her hands around the cup and brought it to her mouth, the smallest of smiles playing around the corner of her lips, just barely detectable before she took a sip.

If he didn't see her shoulders relaxing, Andy would've thought he had imagined the small happy sigh that left her lips a moment after. Her eyes seemed warmer now that the introductory pleasantries were over and their usual easy banter had begun. They always carried a feeling of cautiousness towards each other at first. They rarely crossed paths despite working in the same building, and so words between them were even more rarely exchanged. It was an unlikely acquaintance yet somehow it worked. At least up here, a couple of days once a year.

Andy nursed his own cup of coffee and looked at her while she studied her coffee. Sleep was still present in her countenance.

"You've gained weight," Andy told her when she looked up, and seeing the look of surprise and outrage in her eyes, he blushed embarrassed. It only lasted a second and then her features were schooled into disdain. He immediately started trying to save the comment, and his dignity.

"How nice," she bit back before he could reply, her voice low with sarcasm.

Andy scratched his neck, "I mean, it looks good on you."

She didn't reply, her top lip curling with part annoyance, part something else.

She really did look much better, healthier and rounder curves. Last year had seen her frame drawn and thin. Andy knew from salacious rumors flying around Parker Center that it had to do with her husband.

If patrol was to be trusted, they had picked the drunken idiot up more times than Andy could count on one hand. It was the sort of sleazy gossip that spread like wildfire, whispered about in the corners of police precincts, even more so because she was in Internal Affairs.

"Have you seen the program?" Andy asked as he pushed the flyer with the schedule for the seminar across the tabletop, "It's a joke."

She hummed as she looked down at the flyer, eyes scanning the time table.

Andy studied her while she was busy with the schedule. He felt relieved she accepted the change in subject; he hated making a fool out of himself with his earlier comment.

Her hair was still damp from her morning shower; there was a softer look to her like this, an appearance that looked more approachable than when she was in full uniform. Others might try to deny that she was a real officer in the first place, but in full gear; impeccable uniform, gun and handcuffs at her hip, and her eyes ablaze…few could stand against that, there was no denying that she belonged on the force. She had earned her badge like everyone else. That she chose to honor it in the Rat Squad… well, that was a whole different thing.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Raydor exclaimed in a low tone.

Andy couldn't help but smile at the look of exasperation in her eyes when she looked up, the lines around her mouth had changed into displeasure.

"They've teamed I.A. with Robbery/Homicide," she said with an obvious condescending tone.

Andy shrugged, "Well, it was bound to happen."

She narrowed her eyes, fully disagreeing. "How so?"

"There are only, what, two of you rats? Not much for a team by yourself. And half my division is off trying to solve a string of convenience store robberies, so it's only me and the three stooges who got sent off this year," Andy explained, "Not enough to cover a whole team by ourselves for whatever hell they have managed to put together this year for our trust and team building exercises."

Her mouth pursed again, "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be helping with the robberies?"

Somewhere in her words and tone, it sounded as if she would have liked that; him not being here.

" _Your_ boss put me on mandatory attendance," Andy said, and while he managed to control his features, a small hint of annoyance crept into his tone.

Of all things that could please a woman, that made her smile wide in pleasure.

"Serves you right," she simply noted, still smiling as she took another sip of her coffee.

Andy crossed his arms and got a little more upset, "You have no clue what for? How can you say it serves me right then, huh?" She had a way of getting under his skin, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

"Knowing you, it was probably something atrocious."

"Bah."

She arched an eyebrow, deliberately sipping her coffee in a slow manner while she contemplated him.

Any other officer and Andy would have told them to go 'fuck off' but with her it was different. Getting him worked up was her end goal, so it was better he remain calm.

"You signed up for ballistics and forensics?" Andy asked her, going for neutral ground instead.

She hummed in the affirmative, still sipping.

"I hear they're bringing up the Crocketts as a case this year," Andy added on.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"That'll be interesting," she said, putting the coffee cup on the table and lifting the seminar schedule up again.

Andy shrugged, not entirely agreeing; the case was a cold one, one of his first coming out of the academy. He did not feel up to hearing rookies debate what they would have done differently and how much better that outcome would have been. No amount of poking around and thinking outside the box would change what had happened to the Crocketts.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" she asked him, her eyes softening in their gaze. Everyone knew that the case was an old sore wound for him.

"Nah," he shrugged, not supplying that he had been waiting for her.

"Well, let's go see what greasy contraptions they have for us this year," she nodded toward the buffet table, already getting out of her seat.

Andy followed her, his eyes studying her figure unconsciously.

Sometimes, in moments of insanity, he wondered what it would be like to sleep with her. Those moments usually didn't last long and they mostly appeared when he was in the near proximity of her. He chose to not give them too much consideration. Not as long as she was married, at least.

At the buffet table, she turned around with an impish smile lighting up her face, her eyes contributing with mischievous curiosity.

"So, tell me," she started, reaching out for a bowl as she started ladling up yogurt in it, "what exactly did you do?"

"Do? I haven't done anything," Andy said, standing next to her, contemplating getting yogurt as well.

"You must have done something to be forced up here – again. What is this, the fourth year in a row?"

He snorted, "You've been here the last four years too – what have you done, huh?"

She shook her head, the smile widening, "I come here voluntarily."

Surprised, Andy arched an eyebrow. He had never understood why she came here, but that fact made a lot of sense. She was all hot for rules, and he could hardly see her doing anything that would end up with a reprimand or forced attendance. Why she would voluntarily come here though, he didn't understand.

"You mean to tell me, you volunteer to stay at a crappy motel with lousy food, get ridiculed in team building exercises and listen to some idiot barely able to make it out of the academy telling you all about the new discoveries they're making in forensics? It's not like we're ever gonna use any of those fancy new technologies; not with our budget."

"When have you ever cared about budget?"

"I love budget," he sarcastically quipped, "I want more of it, can't get enough budget."

She laughed; it was a low sound, but beautiful, it made him smile and feel a bit lighter. She topped the laugh with a mesmerizing smile over her shoulder.

She poured some honey on her yogurt. He quickly copied her, his own bowl now filled with yogurt as well.

"You do realize we're getting paid to be here?" she asked him, her humor under the surface.

Andy shrugged, "I would rather get paid to do actual police work."

She rolled her eyes, "Of course you would."

"No, really – what's the fun in this? Why go every year? You can't possibly be looking forward to it? – It's only me and the other knuckleheads – knuckleheads who, you know, usually make fun of you. Where's the fun in that?"

Her head tilted fractionally to the side as she regarded him, "Oh, I have tremendous amounts of fun."

He watched her put muesli on top of the yogurt and then she added a few pieces of fruit; he quickly followed suit.

"C'mon, tell me," he needled, curiosity spiking his interest. This whole seminar was tedious to him; he didn't participate in the evenings when the rest got drunk, and those weird trust-exercises got crazier for each year. The highlight, truth be told, was her – and getting away from LA for a while was pleasant too.

She shook her head obviously amused.

Back by the table, she picked up the two coffee cups and went for refills. Andy sat down meanwhile, digging into the yogurt and toppings with his spoon. She still looked amused when she sat down, new hot coffee steaming from both cups. Andy took a sip in between spoonfuls of yogurt, his eyes on her still waiting for her answer, not that he had much patience left.

"Well?" he forced out, giving her a probing look.

She took a sip of coffee and then let out, "It's like a paid holiday and I do actually enjoy the different lectures they put up each year. Watching all you guys try not to mess up in the team building exercises is the highlight of my year. Also, it's tax deductible."

"It's deductible?" Andy exclaimed, knowing from the narrowed look directed his way that he was missing the point.

Her head tilted as she regarded him with something akin to exasperation, "Ye-es."

"Oh… well, that's news to me."

She smiled, "Doesn't surprise me. You have the look of someone who's always late on his taxes."

He rolled his eyes, "Insults, always insults."

She leaned in across the table, "And after the seminar, I go up the coast for a couple of days and I'm just myself, no investigating police officers gone bad, no drama. So, really, I don't mind going."

That actually didn't sound so bad.

"Yeah? Where do you go?"

"A bed and breakfast, by the water."

"It's got a name?"

She smiled secretively.

…


	3. Chapter 3

With knuckles throbbing with a dull pain, Andy worked his jaw trying to get rid of the lingering pain at his temple and the excess of adrenaline that still lingered furiously in his body. The night air was humid and a small bead of perspiration clung to his spine, slowly cooling off in the aftermath. The motel where most of the officers from the seminar were cooped up, was, per standard, not anything to write home about. The neon sign out front flashed with an awful green light, the doors were faded with cracked painting and the mattresses uncomfortably lumpy and uneven. At least, the rooms were clean. Or as clean as could be detected with eyes alone.

Andy resolutely knocked on room number 12, hissing slightly in pain from his sore knuckles. Something he could not quite understand had brought him here. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other while he waited, he only considered his decision to come here and knock on the door, her door, briefly. The thought entertaining him was that she was most likely asleep, but he was also certain that she would eventually open the door even if midnight had already struck. There was no considering if it was a good or bad idea to come here at this time.

It took a couple of minutes along with some heavy knocking, before Sergeant Raydor finally opened the door. She was dressed in a silver nightgown, her hair was uncommonly disarrayed, and she half covered a yawn with one hand as she looked out from half-lidded eyes.

"What's with all the knocking?" she asked, her voice sounding slightly alert.

"You've got a band aid?" Andy asked her, his tone somewhat hoarse even if he tried to make it sound like he was not in pain. Surprise was evident in her gaze, her eyes widening and her mouth parting slightly as she took in his state; from the torn shirt at the collar to the grazed up knuckles where gravity had forced blood to run down in small streaks along his fingers, he looked quite roughed up.

"What happened?" she asked in a low voice as she stepped forward, one hand reaching out for his sleeve, beckoning him closer so she could look him over.

"You should see the other guy," Andy tried to joke instead as he let her guide him inside the motel room.

"What other guy?" she asked him.

Once inside, he caught sight of the bed sheets thrown back at the end of the bed, she had a double bed and the room to herself he noticed quite envious of the fact seeing as he shared a room with another I.A officer from the NYPD.

From the ruffled bedsheets, his eyes returned to the back of her as he followed her movements. The night gown was shorter than he had ever imagined, it left her legs bare, with the hem of the night gown not quite reaching her knees.

"What other guy?" she asked him again, giving him a scrutinizing look over her shoulder.

"Nelson," he supplied preoccupied, almost missing the narrowed look of displeasure she sent his way.

Andy grinned, "Don't worry, it's all unofficial – not gonna be in any report."

"You sure about that?" she challenged him.

"Dead certain," he asserted in a low vehement voice.

He watched her bite back words, possibly some form of rebuke, instead her eyes softened considerably and she gently pushed him backwards until the back of his knees hit the seat of a recliner, her hands soft on his shoulders.

"Let us get you cleaned up. Sit and stay still," she commanded in a tone he took to be playful.

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed with a smile, his eyes lingering a bit longer on her naked legs than he meant to, the sight inviting warm and pleasant imaginings. It did not help that he had spent a majority of his time today in the teambuilding exercise with her firmly balanced on his shoulders as they had tried to maneuver their way through the game. There was still a ghostlike impression of her thighs, hot and heavy, on top of him and pressed against his head. Somehow it had implanted itself into his mind like some kind of treacherous desire.

Andy watched humor play in her eyes before she turned and headed for the bathroom.

Maybe that had partly been the reason he saw fit to defend her persona this night; he was not usually prone to defending officers from the rat squad. However, 'usually' never really seemed to count out here, away from the confines of LA and the LAPD. Every year, he was reminded how it felt as a different reality coming up here for the seminar, as if they were in a bubble of some kind where troubles and differences from back home didn't really matter. The moment they returned, the bubble quickly burst and what were left of it were some awkward and incompatible pieces he regrettably couldn't quite hold on to or patch together for a reminder of a, admittedly, relaxed and fun time.

When Sharon reappeared, it was with a wetted cloth in one hand and what appeared to be a small first aid kit. He sat silently, studying her eyes as she tended to him. First she dapped the cloth on his brow, washing the caked blood away and cleaning the small gash.

"How on earth did you get this?"

"Nelson's got one heavy ring on his right hand, some sort of heirloom I think."

She tsk'ed, the tone full of discontent.

"I didn't plan on planting my fist in his face," Andy explained which earned him a wry smile, "or getting his in mine."

"Exactly what did Nelson do to earn your fist in his face?" she asked, stopping momentarily as she eyed him, the corner of the cloth red from blood.

"Ran his mouth, per usual." It was a half-truth.

She tilted her head, clearly not believing him, "A run of his mouth made you punch him? ... are you drunk?"

Instead of feeling insulted, he shrugged, "I don't drink." He didn't see the need to inform her of his recovery. In the past, that would have been the logical reason for him to get in a fight.

"Oh, okay," she nodded, her thumb briefly passing his cheek in the smallest of caresses before she took his right hand and lifted it. The impression of her caress lingered, novel in its touch and implication. She had never touched him before, not like this. It enticed him. He kept studying her as she worked on his small injuries. They were both silent for a while.

Andy watched her clean his knuckles with an unbloodied part of the cloth, fresh blood starting to pebble forth. She then turned his hand around and huffed at the sight; he had fallen on the asphalt and his hands had been kind enough to take the brunt of it. She started cleaning the inside of his hand as well, the small grains of asphalt that had stained through his skin upon impact flaking away as she rather forcefully cleaned out the small abrasions. He gritted his teeth and did his best not to hiss too much in pain, his eyes intently studying her face. It was a rare opportunity for him to look at her like this.

"There, you're as good as new," she smiled when she finished up and stood upright, hands at her hips. "Fresh air will do your wounds better, so put on a band aid tomorrow if you want."

"Thanks," he replied coarsely and simply, taken aback that she was suddenly not so close anymore.

The nightgown was thin, he noticed, or maybe the room was cold. Whatever it was, he could appreciate the sight; her nipples visible beneath the silver clothing. Andy grinned uncontrollably at the sight, and he flexed his hands, momentarily looking down at his lap to avoid her gaze. When he looked up again, she had crossed her arms, which was not at all unbecoming in her current state of dress.

"Are you going to tell me what really happened?" she demanded, "Or did you simply come here to watch me play nurse?"

Her crossed arms pushed her breasts up. It was something else to behold but he tried not to look too much as he knew that if he continued to stare, she would eventually guess where his thoughts had drifted off to.

"Or are you going to make me guess?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Like I said, Nelson's mouth was spouting all kinds of vile nonsense, so I had to shut it up."

She blew out an exasperated sigh, "You can't go around punching people simply because they annoy you, the department frowns upon that sort of behavior – and you know it!"

"I'm off duty – technically it's got nothing to do with the department."

"They won't really care, you've already got quite an extensive record, and another fistfight won't look good."

"Look," he said catching her gaze and holding it, "I didn't plan on getting into a fight – and frankly I would have kept my mouth shut about it… but the idiot did deserve a good whack."

"How do you know no one's going to report it?"

"Because it was just a small scuff, and even if Nelson is a big blabber head, he doesn't want it on his record that he gossips like a drama queen… and the other guys don't really care enough to report something like this."

"And you are sure about it?" her eyebrow lifted.

"Yeah, no one will know…not unless you're gonna blabber," he countered.

Her lips pursed in contempt. She was probably thinking up a whole headache-inducing rebuttal or something to that effect. So before she could get another word in, Andy leaned forward and asked her what had been on his mind ever since Nelson had let it slip.

"You should have told me you're separated. That would have been nice to know."

She looked surprised, "What? How did you -," she stopped midsentence, her features twisting into utter contempt. "Nelson…" she breathed out, her tone practically dripping venom.

"Exactly," Andy nodded and then added, "that egghead is nothing but a gossip central. You see why I felt a need to tell him off, huh?"

"I don't need you to defend my honor, sergeant, we're not in the middle ages anymore," she said in a snippy voice as if he had done her some form of atrocious disservice.

"In my defense, I used my words first."

There was a beat of silence wherein they stared defensibly at each other.

"So, it's true then?" he asked again, watching her closely.

It would explain a lot of things now that he knew about it in hindsight.

"Yes, I'm separated." She looked away, pain visible in the depths of her eyes.

"Oh, well," he filled the silence slowly as he stood up, feeling awkwardness so heavy it was on the brink of coming to life.

"Thank you for mending me, I'll, eh, owe you one."

She still looked somewhat withdrawn, her eyes not really focused. She had uncrossed her arms and her nipples were once again visible through her night gown along with the normal outline of her breasts. The curves looked soft.

Andy took a small step towards her, his hand out to her elbow as he touched her consoling.

She looked up, her eyes capturing his with an unexpected intensity. He read vulnerability in that gaze, along with something undefinable. He took another small step towards her, her eyes still held him. Her mouth parted slightly, and now he recognized the undefinable in her gaze as anticipation. It was one of those moments where he acted on a whim.

He leaned forward, feeling adrenaline pushing him to obscure recklessness, and his lips captured hers before his brain could catch up and tell him what a stupid idea that was.

Her lips were soft against his and responding the moment they touched, one of her hands tentatively reached up on his chest. Her fingers delved more deeply into the cloth the longer their kiss continued, her lips pliant against his and her smell intoxicated him.

Andy let up for air for a short second, her breath felt hot on his chin. At some point during their kiss, her eyes had closed. He watched her lashes fluttering like a butterfly taking off, before she opened her eyes. She seemed as surprised as him about their kiss, and yet not taken aghast. She tiptoed closer to him, her fingers closing around his shirt at his waist.

Andy smiled before he captured her lips again eager to taste her again, this time the force behind the kiss felt more powerful, more primal. He swallowed up her moan when his hands slipped inside her night gown, her bare skin warm against his fingers.

She broke free of the kiss when he palmed her breast, her head tilted back, mouth apart and eyes closed. The sudden and hungry desire to have her, be with her, dulled the pain from the wounds on his hands.

Andy leaned closer to her and deposited a soft kiss on her neck, then moved his lips up next to her ear.

"You like that?" he whispered hotly, his hands drifted down and followed the line of her waist till they rested on her hip.

Her eyes opened and she regarded him silently, her cheeks marked by a light blush. She gave a nod, the motion almost imperceptible.

Andy guided her back to the bed, watching shadows dancing in her eyes as they flickered to and from his eyes and lips. There was a peculiar faint notion of vulnerability about her as she easily followed his touch; nervousness or something akin to it. However, she easily tackled it with a smile and her lips on his as she initiated another kiss, her lips warm and inviting as she captured his bottom lip. Up close her scent was all encompassing, her taste that of minty toothpaste, her skin warm to touch and begging for more, it surrounded him in an intoxicating haze.

Fuck, he wanted her; every little inch of her.

A small breath escaped her parted mouth when the back of her legs hit the mattress, and Andy watched her lie down on the bed in front of him; her movements slow and enticing. His eyes followed the curve of her body for a moment or two, before he followed suit, his lips capturing hers again as he covered her body with his.

There was a certain hurried quality to it all, every kiss more consuming than the one before. As if time was running out at a faster rate than normal, slipping between their grasp. He had a brief thought that if he paused at any time, there would be too many questions needing answering, and he had no answers to give. He simply felt pulled forward by a mix of her lust and his own. He felt as if he was ready to devour her flesh and bone, so he could begin to satisfy the flame of desire that had started in his lower abdomen from the moment she had smiled a little too brightly at him, pulled and coiled for days until it rested solely in his member.

So he kissed her with abandon, swallowing up breaths and small little noises that barely made impetus on any scale, but he felt them flutter against his lips, tingling as her lips aligned with his. He let his hands caress down her body and up again, her skin warm beneath his touch, her back arching up when he cupped her breasts. Her legs parting of their own as if extending an invitation for him to lie down between them.

"You're sure Nelson didn't hit your head too hard?" she breathed out in a sudden question of uncertainty when he let go of a kiss, her voice humid against his ear as he kissed his way down her throat, a tremulous quality to her tone.

"I've wanted you before today, I've wanted to fuck you since I don't know when," he half growled, pushing her arms up above her head, watching her breasts half covered by the nightgown.

His words took her breath away, her eyes widening with something darkly lit playing in the depths.

"Oh," she breathed, and then with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile more in lieu of her sure self, she commented, "You've never let that show."

"You were married," he stated with a small grin. It was the wrong thing to say, he could tell that immediately. Her eyes darkened, but not with desire or anything resembling that. Her lips trembled and she looked away from him, the intake of breath sounding like something on the verge of crying.

"Hey," he said, coaxing her eyes to meet his, "I'm sorry."

She exhaled and tried a smile, "I'm usually not like this at all."

"Like what – one-night stands with fellow sergeants in shady motel rooms?" he quipped.

Her smile curved more fully, more honestly. He smiled back.

She hesitated, her mouth opening and then closing.

"What is it?" he asked, lying down on his side next to her.

"I haven't had sex in a while," she said in a hurry, a self-conscious smile as she blushed.

He leaned towards her and placed a soft kiss on her lips, "So what? It doesn't matter. Just tell me if there's something you don't like – or if we need to stop."

"Or if you really like it," he added with a mischievous grin.

She nodded and gave him one of those dazzling smiles again. They met halfway for a kiss, the swell of her breasts heaving up against him and the junction of her thighs were hot when he caressed his way up one inner thigh. Her eyes fluttered closed when he slipped his thumb under the band of her underwear and started slipping it down over her hips. She seemed nervous, a small shudder running through her as he slipped her underwear all the way down to her ankles, letting it strangle her legs there for a while.

He lifted her chin up and caught her eyes before he kissed her, this time slowly, letting her set the pace. He was consumed by the feeling of her lips hot on his as they faced each other, his hand going over the swell of her hip and cupped her buttocks, bringing her closer to him. He really needed to get rid of his own clothing soon; she was almost naked and there he lay, fully clothed, that would not do.

She broke free of the kiss suddenly, her eyes wide as she breathlessly exclaimed, "Condom!"

"Huh?" Andy stopped, his own breath coming out hoarse.

"Condom," she repeated, her cheeks heavy with color, "We need a condom."

"I don't have condoms – do you?"

"Why would I have condoms packed for this trip? And why don't you have condoms?"

"Geesh – I didn't exactly plan on having sex with you – or anyone else."

Her bottom lip protruded and her eyes narrowed, "Well, this is not happening without a condom," she stated, scooting away from him and resting back on her back.

He was somewhat mesmerized by the sight of her; the night gown fully open, her sex and her breasts bare as she lay on her back, nipples beckoning for him to cover them with his mouth.

She quirked an eyebrow when he said nothing, "Don't you dare say anything stupid."

"I wasn't going to," he murmured, leaning down again and covering one breast with his mouth, happy when she let a moan escape, her hands running smoothly through his hair.

"There's a 24 hour convenience store just around the corner," Andy said when he let go of the left breast and moved to the right, covering her body with his once again.

"There is?" she sounded hopeful and he smiled against her skin.

"Yeah."

"Well?" she hummed, drumming her fingers almost impatiently on his shoulders, "Are you going to go?"

"Yeah," he replied, but he kept his mouth on her skin, her scent enveloping him fully in a warm cocoon.

He rose up on his elbows and gave her a smug smile, "Gonna eat you out first though."

She bit her bottom lip, eyes following his descent with a strange look.

"Sergeant," she breathed out when his lips travelled south. He kissed his way along both her inner thighs, circling closer to her center.

She was wet and hot, the scent potent as it rushed to his brain in a flash of instant desire. He thought it would be rude not make her come before he went in search for condoms. That would be selfish of him. Besides, it would leave her hot and bothered, and ready, for him when he came back, if he made her climax first.

She inhaled when he licked down her folds and then sucked them gently into his mouth, the taste of her spiking his own desire. Her fingers gripped painfully into his hair, and for a short second he was afraid she would uproot his hair from his scalp, yet it somehow enticed him that she acted this strongly.

"I don't come easily," she breathed out after a small stretch of silence, the words rushing from her as if it was a secret. "You don't need to do this."

"I want to," he breathed out against her folds, looking up to allay her concerns, "and I like taking my time, so don't even think about coming quickly."

Her mouth parted as if she wanted to say more; she looked embarrassed, not that he could understand why.

"You don't find this a little too intimate?" she asked, her bottom lip under her teeth as she tilted her head, the blush on her cheeks deepening.

He lightly touched the outside of her thighs, heat radiating from her with her thighs on each side of his head.

"Not at all, it's my favorite part of sex," he shrugged with a grin.

"Really?" she breathed out, the impression on her tone heavier as he came back to her center, tongue out.

He hummed and then fully covered her, licking slowly at first, long strokes with the flat of his tongue as he held onto the top of her thighs, eyes on her.

She slowly relaxed, her head arching back and her eyes closing. When he felt her body relax as well, tense muscles being replaced by languid muscles, he closed his own eyes, letting her scent and the feeling of her, hot and wet against his face, intoxicate him.

…


	4. Chapter 4

**/1b/**

…

Sharon felt cocooned in a state of half dreaming, her eyes fluttering open to watch the sunlight stream in through flimsy grey curtains giving the effect of light reflected under water. She felt warm under her sheet, yet most of the heat came from the body that lay beside her and not the thin sheet she had for cover. The sergeant was hot like a furnace as he slept; heat emanating from his skin and enveloping her in pleasant warmth, lulling her further into the half lucid state before dawn fully broke.

Dreams and sleep eluded her, however.

The sun became more insistent and as the room became brighter, she found herself unable to go back to sleep. Not in particular because of the sun, her mind zeroed in on the feeling of the sergeant's naked body against her own, how his groin felt pressed against her bottom. His breaths were slow and relaxed, little signs of life that ran countenance to their heated and unrestrained behavior last night.

The whole thing felt like a dream; sequences out of order as random flashbacks hit her. She was immerged in the impression of him lying behind her, so much closer than he were now, and his hands had gripped hard into her flesh at the hip while he fucked her. Fucked. She didn't really use that word, it usually felt too simple and vulgar, but as a description of last night, no other word fit as well as that. They had _fucked,_ practically all night; fast and slow; this position then that position. She felt windswept and surprised by how everything had turned out; from him showing up at her motel room all beaten up to him suddenly kissing her as if he had wanted to kiss her for a long time to them fucking. Not only had he kissed her with a desire made tangible but he had taken his dear time with every aspect of it, never once hurrying up or focusing entirely on himself, but instead he had kept her stranded on a high tide of pleasure for an amount of time that was entirely novel in her experience.

It was all jumbled together and she could hardly keep up with all the emotions that had started spiraling ever since she woke up. She kept going back to how she felt during their initial kiss, his lips sweet on hers. It was as if she fell into the night sky, careless, free, and safe in their meeting of soft lips. At the same time a fire had started burning low in her abdomen, and as the night had progressed, the fire swept through her and left her in a state of sated exhaustion. It was everything she had been sorely missing, not that she had really known until now.

In all honesty, Sharon had forgotten about herself for a long time. For years, she had other more pressing concerns to deal with; job, income, children, mortgage, debt, alcoholism, betrayal. She could go on, the list continued ad nauseum, and really, who had time to think about orgasms when the world was coming apart at the seams? It had taken all of her to keep everything, and everyone, holding together. The last time she had seen Jack, he had called her a cold bitch unable to love and satisfy him. The words felt like a rope tightening around her throat, even now after their separation. Even if he had said it under the influence of alcohol it hurt just as much as if he had said them sober. The last time they had sex together, it had felt as if it came from habit and it was over almost before they had begun.

The separation was like being able breathe again, yet she found herself feeling more lonely than she had before.

Perhaps loneliness made her invite men into her bed, she mused, but then quickly corrected herself; she'd only invited one very specific man into her bed. And not even a stranger, but someone who was on the peripheral of her acquaintances. She wasn't about to have sex with a complete stranger after all. She liked Sergeant Flynn to an extent and he was pleasant to look at. Beneath a sarcastic exterior, she enjoyed his humor and somehow or other, he managed to make her laugh more often than not. So if she had to have sex with anyone, maybe it made sense that it was him? And, she smiled at the thought; he was quite excellent in bed. Whatever had prompted the night, she was glad for it. She hadn't enjoyed sex like this in a long while, and it felt freeing to be able to simply let desire run its course.

Her lower back, legs and thighs were aching and between her thighs she felt a soreness that blew through her body like hot fire when she moved. She got hot just thinking about it, and for god's sake, if she got wet only lying next to him, she really was a bit deprived of sex, wasn't she? Lonely, and sex-deprived, for certain.

She stifled a yawn, trying not to move too much. For some reason, the last thing she wanted was to wake him up. She felt self-conscious lying naked under the covers, even if he was naked as well and close to her. She wondered if he was like this with all the other women he dated; made them come first, taking his time and everything. She wondered how he was the morning after, whether he would be the same humorous easy-going guy or if he would be completely different. She wondered a myriad of things, questions and uncertainties burst out. There was simply not room for another person yet, she decided. She needed to form a bit of control of her own thoughts first, make sense of her feelings, of her new situation in life and relationships.

Sharon smiled despite herself, wondering if he even wanted to talk. As much as they lay close and cuddled in warmth, they were not close at all. She knew next to nothing about him except for his record in the office. Whatever intimacy they had shared, it was confined to this singular event. She was certain come Monday when normal life knocked on their door, that everything would be painted in a different light.

She held her breath when she felt him turn over, his leg gliding against hers as he settled onto his back. Trying to be as careful as possible, she moved closer to the edge of the bed while she kept an ear out for more movements from him.

"I'm awake," the sergeant said in a low grumble, his sudden voice giving her a fright, "You don't have to pretend to be asleep either."

"Oh," she cleared her throat, her own voice sounding tiny to her ears.

"Morning," he said while yawning slightly, his voice a rumble of hoarseness.

It would be rude to disappear into the bathroom now. Instead Sharon turned around on her side, keeping the sheet up to her chest in a strange attempt at modesty. He lay on his side, head in hand and his dark eyes centered on her with a strange gleam, a half smile portrayed on his mouth.

"Good morning," she said back and gave him a small smile feeling if not shy then cautious.

She watched him yawn and then he lay down again, stretching out his spine with a groan escaping his mouth. The sheet lay across his lower body, leaving his upper torso free, and more of him was revealed as he stretched. Another difference between him and her ex-husband; Jack didn't exactly stay in shape or go to the gym, whereas Flynn's muscles were lean and hard. The sheet slipped further down his body and Sharon felt her thoughts gravitate toward the center of the bed and him again; the embers from last night's fire stirred up and a new fire started deep in her body, begging for indulging and release.

She quickly stopped before she could fully embarrass herself and instead made a quick excuse, leaving the bed in a hurry and putting on her night gown as she half jogged to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and let out a relieved sigh as she rested against the door.

"Fuck."

She rarely used _fuck_ as an expletive but standing in front of the mirror her eyes widened as she began to fully comprehend what had happened between them, she couldn't help but utter that single word.

She grimaced at herself and then a ridiculous smile crept onto her lips. She had never meant to have sex with anyone, let alone him of all. She was barely separated and that wound was not even in the process of healing. She had not even shaved in months, for crying out loud, and he had gone down on her as if he did it on a daily basis, his mouth hot as he had licked and kissed till she had tipped over the edge, not really believing it was happening until she found herself contracting and crashing fully into the height of pleasure. Jack hadn't made her come like that; he had tried in the beginning, but it had never amounted to much. No one had made her come like that.

She opened up the facet with cold water and sprayed a good amount onto her heated face, trying to jumpstart the more rational part of her brain. She took a deep inhalation, and then another and another.

She must have stood in a trance for a while, not really comprehending much let alone the passage of time, because suddenly there came a knock on the door from the other side.

"Hey, you alright in there?" he asked, his voice hoarse and bringing her out of her daze.

"Fine, I'm fine," she called back, holding in a breath as she waited for him to walk back to the bed and simply let her have some time to freak out silently and privately. It was his fault that she had a sort of sexual awakening after all, and really, how was she supposed to come down from that high? How was she supposed to make sense of it?

"You're not stuck in the toilet?" she heard him joke and she could almost picture the stupid, lopsided grin that would paint his features.

She huffed, taking her eyes away from the mirror.

"I'm peeing," she lied, putting an edge to her tone that she hoped he would get.

"You've been peeing for twenty minutes," he said back, a smile evident in his voice.

She looked back at the mirror and made a face at herself. Maybe he was inept at taking a hint?

"I'm going to take a shower," she said instead.

"Okay," he said and then mumbled something else but it was too low for her to catch it through the door. "Do you want company? Save water and all that, hmm."

In a fit of exasperation, she flung the door open ready to tell him off. However, he simply stood before her, fully naked, with that stupid grin surely in its place and an arched eyebrow, not a care in the world. Smug that was what he was. Smug and arrogant and annoying and everything she didn't particularly like. Before she could retort however, he moved forward with a smile turning wolfish before he cradled her head and had his lips locked on hers in a breathtaking kiss.

Jack had used to kiss her like that – years back, before their life had turned sour. Before the image of Jack could implant itself too much on her mind, she shut it down and instead pushed back against the man presently kissing her, responding in the same almost frenzy yearning. She pushed him back against the bathroom door, her own lips moving eagerly against his. She didn't want him to have all the control, and yet she could feel the insatiable pull of becoming lost in him, and sex, again.

"Bossy, are we?" he breathed out between a kiss, hands still holding her head, his lips inches from hers. His breath was warm with a faint tinge of sleep.

"Horny, are we?" she fired back, feeling a smile tug at her lips. She quickly stood up on her toes and caught his bottom lip between her mouth, biting down till she heard him groan, his hands leaving her head and instead holding tightly onto her hips.

She pulled his head down, once again lost in kissing him, in the feeling of his hands and lips on her and in the heavy scent of sweat and sex mixing together. He cupped her bottom and brought her close to him, the press of his erection against her abdomen more than noticeable.

"What do you think, huh?" his eyes locked unto her, dark and mesmerizing but indecipherable. He could be thinking a myriad of things behind that veil of humor.

"I think we're going to be late," she countered but she did not move from his embrace.

"Ah, but well worth it," he smiled.

She gave a mocking shrug.

"Ah yeah, forgot about your unhealthy obsession with punctuality," he grinned, "Sergeant prim and proper, huh."

She rolled her eyes, "That's the best name you can come up with?"

"Nah, got a whole list at home."

"That sounds a bit obsessive, sergeant," she tilted her head.

"I like to obsess about you," he smiled, his eyes darkening as he began to push her backwards, "right now I'm obsessed about wanting to fuck you, proper and everything. Make you come on time."

She nodded and met his lips halfway, his mouth hot and eager. Words had abandoned her as excitement coiled through her abdomen full of tense power, pulling her towards him as if desire had a gravitational field.

She let him maneuver them, surprised when he backed her further into the bathroom instead of back towards the bed. Her back hit the sink, the edge digging into her spine as he pressed more firmly into her with his whole body. It was the same when he lay on top of her, just on the point where she couldn't breathe, yet with enough pressure to feel good, as if her entire body was being devoured by his. She hopped up on the sink when they briefly broke apart to breathe, quick to pull him in with her legs around his middle. She'd had sex in the shower before but this was entirely new.

In the romance novels she read, there was usually a lot of foreplay, but now she watched him with bated breath as he rolled on a condom before pushing into her, her leg securely around him as she edged closer to the edge of the sink. The marble cold against her butt only heightening her excitement, the length of him filling up as he pushed deeper into her upon every slow thrust made her forget any discomfort. She held onto his shoulders, her back hitting the cabinet behind her.

She closed her eyes in pleasure and bit down on her bottom lip.

When he started rocking, she expelled a long breath and opened her eyes again. She found herself looking into his eyes, their hue warm and intense. His fingers held onto her leg and he moved faster, leaning into her.

The cabinet behind her dug into her back but the pain kept her grounded and she leaned into it with every thrust, her body lit with molten fire.

"You're so fucking sexy," he whispered in her ear before he turned his head and caught her lips again, a wet kiss shared between them as their breaths came short.

"So warm," he husked, lips tingling so close to the shell of her ear, "tight, wet. I could fuck you all day."

She had no words to reply with, lost in her desires, closing in on him so she could kiss him again. She liked having his lips against hers and the way she could feel his breaths becoming more and more extraneous as he fucked her on the bathroom sink.

It did not even matter that she couldn't climax in the position, it was exciting in itself. He came heavy with a growl against her neck, his fingers scratching against her skin and the cabinet digging into her spine.

…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the lovely feedback. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.

…

"Hey Raydor, wait up," Sergeant Flynn's voice rang out across the parking lot and stopped Sharon midstride, his voice eliciting tendrils of heat to coalesce in her lower abdomen.

Sharon quickly schooled her features before she turned on her heel to greet him. She kept still, her smile somewhat vague yet well meaning. She tried to douse the desirous feelings inside her, but they only flourished, empowered by the form of Andy Flynn as he rushed her way.

Sharon hoisted her overnight bag higher up on her shoulder, swallowing the desire to run away.

Through the last lectures of the seminar she had tried her best to not think about sex. All to no avail. It was stuck on her mind like a broken record, impressed into her skin, and it made its presence known whenever she had changed position as her aching muscles brought back memories of their heated night. It did not help one bit that Andy Flynn had been close to her through every lecture, his dark eyes looking at her whenever she glanced in his direction, and his smile, warm and secretive, complimented that look from him. It was impossible not to think of sex. Impossible to quell that free-reining fire inside of her.

Throughout the years they had built up a small routine which usually saw them partaking in the coffee and snacks send off at the end of the seminar, both of them standing off in one corner sipping coffee before they began their separate drive back to LA. Usually Flynn would entertain her with his comedic versions of whatever lecturer had pissed him off, or maybe he rambled about one of the guys from Vice. No matter the case, Sharon had enjoyed those small moments of goodbye. Everything was drastically different now.

She had felt entirely too nervous to engage in conversation, so in a rather uncharacteristic move, she had rushed to her motel room and packed her belongings without much care for wrinkles, her nerves getting the best of her. The thought of staying alone at the seaside bed and breakfast filled her with uneasiness that she had a hard time identifying, so she had cancelled her booking. She reasoned that a small vacation would give her far too much time to contemplate what this whole fling with Andy meant, even when she knew it meant nothing, not to him, not to her; it was just a one night stand. At least, it wasn't supposed to mean anything. However, Sharon knew herself too well; she would end up unnecessarily spending time trying to figure it out, analyze every small detail and examine every feeling, even if there was nothing to figure out.

"Hey," Sergeant Flynn greeted her with a smile at the corner of his lips and somewhat out of breath when he finally caught up to her. The smile felt different, warm and inviting, centered exclusively on her.

Sharon smiled in return and greeted him back with a small hum. She wasn't sure what to say; 'Thanks for the great sex', would be a little too awkward, wouldn't it?

"You disappeared lightning fast, huh?" he commented with a small laugh.

She was acutely aware of his gaze and how it travelled over her body, lingering in certain places before he locked his eyes on hers. It made her feel warm to her core in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. It was invigorating, and perhaps that had been the whole point of their little fling for her part? To bring a little fun back into her life that had nothing to do with anyone else? To remind herself that Jack was the one missing out and she could do just fine on her own.

"What's the hurry?" he grinned wide, looking like his usual smug self, "How about a proper goodbye? Like, a cup of coffee for the road, as we usually do?"

"I forgot," she lied as she fiddled with the car keys in her hand, the silver metal cool to touch. "My babysitter called, she has a family emergency, so I need to get back to LA as soon as possible."

She was a little surprised the whole lie came out as effortlessly as it did, her voice steady even if she felt a little bad for lying to him when he had been nothing but sweet.

"Oh, well that happens. I'm sorry though, it seemed like you were looking forward to some time alone."

"Yes, I was," she said as she hoisted the strap of the overnight back further up her shoulder to keep it from sliding off her shoulder, "Anyway, I really have to go," she paused, not sure what more to say. They needed some form of informal goodbye, so it wouldn't be completely awkward once they saw each other again.

If she could face criminals twice her height without flinching, then surely she could tackle this whole situation. With a little push of courage, she held his eyes as she told him, "I um, had a good time."

Her words immediately put a kick into his smile, his mouth widening into a fully-fledged smirk.

"Me too," he replied, his voice lowering a fraction and his eyes darkening into a gleam, "It was great."

She nodded in agreement and tried to swallow past the breathless feeling that had taken up residence in her chest, fluttering in excitement when his eyes darkened while he looked at her. She smiled back at him, and was about to tell him goodbye when out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement.

The sergeant followed her movements as he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes likewise trained on the figure of a detective that had exited from one of the upper motel rooms. Sharon held her breath afraid it would be a detective from their own precinct, her heart giving an erratic burst of beats at the thought.

Upon a closer look, it turned out to be Lieutenant Brett from New York, the blonde hair and crooked nose a dead giveaway. Brett waved when he saw them, his smile cordial.

The notion that it could have been one of their own walking by and interpreting the whole scene for what it was, made her feel anxious. There was enough rumors circulating already and she couldn't stomach dealing with more whispers in corners. Her private life was just that; private.

Maybe it was perfect timing after all that sergeant Flynn caught up with her; they had not really discussed what it all meant and how they were supposed to handle their affair. She was uncertain when it came to one night stands and work protocol, but it was certainly worth talking about even if she would rather not have the conversation. No matter how great a time they had together, and no matter how much she had previously enjoyed talking with him at these seminars, she had to protect herself foremost.

Sharon took a deep breath and then expelled in a quick succession, "About what happened, I would appreciate it, if it stayed between the two of us."

"Sure," he agreed with a nod, the word simple but affirming.

"Oh good," she said with a relieved smile. "I also hope, in the case that we'll be interacting in the future, that we'll be able to keep it professional."

At that he outright chuckled and then shook his head, obviously amused at her words. "Don't worry, I will still be an ass to you, professionally, it won't affect our jobs."

"You seem very certain of that?" she challenged him, a note of amusement in her tone.

"Oh, if we ever happen to cross paths, professionally, I'll treat you like any other I.A officer, don't worry about that."

She rolled her eyes and lowered her voice to reply sarcastically, "How nice of you."

"Look, whatever happened, it's no biggie workwise. First off, we're not in the same command chain and outside these seminars, we barely see each other. And, so what, we had sex – it happened off duty and it is not uncommon."

She interrupted him, "Semi off duty."

He shrugged, not really agreeing, "Semantics."

"Maybe," she smiled, feeling the small knot in her stomach come undone. She would not have to worry about rumors going wild around parker center. She felt the bag about to slide off her shoulder for the umpteenth time, and after quickly hoisting it up again, she looked over her shoulder at her car. She looked back at the sergeant. What exactly was the goodbye protocol? A handshake seemed too formal and a kiss was out of the question.

The sergeant however, interrupted her musings.

"Are you driving back to LA?" he asked as his eyes likewise went to the silver Hyundai.

She hummed in affirmation.

"You've got room for one more?"

She arched her brow, surprised, "You didn't drive here?"

"I carpooled with the others, and funnily enough Nelson's been badmouthing me left and right, so, I'm on my own getting back home," he smiled but his eyes darkened dangerously and for a short second, she felt her lower abdomen respond with a spiral of arousal.

"Naturally, I'll split the gas," he continued.

"You can come," she said and then quickly added, feeling her cheeks heat up, "with me, I mean. You can drive with me. There's plenty of room."

"Great. Well, I just need to pick up my baggage then I'll be ready to go."

She nodded and watched him sprint back to his own motel room.

Why she had said yes was beyond her. She had, after all, rushed to get away from the seminar and the sergeant, and now in spite of everything, she would be spending more than three hours in the car with the man. How did that even add up? She sighed and berated herself. She felt out of sorts; on one hand she felt on the brink of letting out a giggle of excitement, but on the other hand, she felt like crawling under a blanket and disappearing from the world until this whole car trip was over.

Instead of standing like a statue out on the parking lot, Sharon threw her bag into the trunk of the car and sat in behind the wheel. She let out a long breath, suddenly finding herself feeling nervous again. She rolled her shoulders and then bit her lip when her eyes spotted the sergeant once again rushing towards her car, this time with his own overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

The sight of him looped through her abdomen and her center, and she had to take another deep breath to let it go and focus on anything but sex. She hoped it would not be obvious to Flynn just how much he had ignited her sexual drive, and how much she wanted to jump into bed with him again.

The sergeant took off his leather jacket before he got into the passenger side of the car. There was just enough room for both his legs and his bag in front, Sharon tried not to look at his bare arms too much. He looked good in a simple grey t-shirt; the sleeves of it complimented his arm muscles.

"Ready?" she asked, her voice moderated to sound neutral.

"All ready, Ma'am," he saluted her with a mischievous grin.

On the outskirts of San Diego, they tanked up on gas. Sergeant Flynn went into the store to pay before Sharon had a chance to protest. He came back carrying two coffee cups and a smile that easily melted away her worries.

"Figured it would be bad to break tradition," he explained as he offered her one of the styrofoam cups, "Here you go."

Sharon smiled her gratitude and then took a sip from the hot beverage, mindful not to burn her tongue. The flavor was decent, not bland like most store bought coffee.

"Are you going up here again next year?" he asked her, his own eyes drawn to something beyond the window shield as he sipped coffee. He turned his head, an indecipherable expression, "To the seminar I mean."

Sharon gave him a surprised look, watching him purposefully look out through the window shield again as if he had asked her a mundane question about the weather. He tried to seem nonchalant about it, however she had a feeling her answer meant a great deal to him. Her stomach butterflies fluttered annoyingly.

She hummed and then cleared her throat, "Maybe, well … most likely."

There was a beat of silence.

Sharon took another sip of the coffee, her own eyes trained on the cars pulling out of the station and back onto the freeway.

"Hmm, well, I'll have to think something up then," he finally said.

"Think something up?" she asked, curious what he meant.

"To piss my boss off so he'll send me up here again."

She laughed, "Or maybe you could simply volunteer."

"Nah, that would only get me sent off to the shrink for a head check," he grinned at her, "Can't break tradition, eh?"

Sharon smiled back at him and then put her coffee cup into the holder.

"We better get a move on if we want to make it back before dark," she commented, her tone low. She turned the key in ignition and then focused on getting the car back on the freeway.

She eased the car into the full lane behind a corvette. Mindful of not letting anything show, she sneaked a look to her right. The sergeant was sipping coffee as he looked out the front window. There was a definite up curve to his mouth. She wondered if they would end up in bed together again, if the circumstances permitted it.

Small talk was surprisingly easy once they were back on the road, albeit intermittently it was interrupted by small moments of silence in which she felt completely naked. It was not uncomfortableness she felt, it was more of an awkward sensation that when they weren't talking about some seemingly insignificant little subject, she could feel heat rise and her thoughts started replaying every little memory of their night together. Talking about small things was easier.

Once they reached inner LA, the sergeant easily guided Sharon through the city to his place. The street lights were beginning to turn on as they drove through neighborhoods of small apartment complexes. Sharon stopped the engine when they arrived at the correct address, her eyes curiously on the grey façade outside and the narrow alley behind that looked a little sinister in the dark.

"Thanks for the ride," the sergeant said as he undid his seatbelt.

Sharon could feel her cheeks heat up, her mind had entertained thoughts of following him up and how they would likely end up in heated kissing again.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice low, almost purring.

"Maybe I will see you around," he continued, this time as he leaned closer, his eyes intense.

She wanted to say something but then his hand landed on her thigh, the skirt she wore riding up as he let his whole hand caress up along her inner thigh. She should have kept the engine going.

Instead, the sergeant moved forward and planted his lips on hers in a goodbye kiss. It did not last long, nor was it particularly chaste; middle ground, long enough to make her want more, and not long enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

He said 'bye' with an impish smile and she tugged a strand of hair behind her ear as she watched him locking himself into the apartment, her hands shaking a bit as she turned the engine back on.

She smiled to herself the whole drive home, mirth encompassing her fully.

…


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Again, a heartfelt thank you to all the lovely feedback, makes my days shine a bit brighter ;) Hope you enjoy this one, although it's a bit short ;)

…

The sound of the bathroom door being forcibly closed echoed through the hallway and into the living room, reinforcing the boy's pain. Sharon had not meant to upset him, quite the opposite in fact, and she could understand his anger at finding out no one was genuinely looking for his mother. She hugged the pillow tight to her chest, closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

The day had been extremely long and not made any easier by threading in foreign waters with colleagues who neither knew her nor cared to, and now to top it all off; the material witness was living with her temporarily. Why she had made him her responsibility, she had a hard time explaining, but she couldn't make herself let him go back to the streets, or worse, disappear like so many others before him. She would find his mother, even if that would turn out to be exceptionally time consuming, and even if it wouldn't be a happy ending for the boy as _Sharon Beck_ would most likely be charged with neglect – amongst other things.

She drew a large breath. The last two days had felt like a whirlwind.

Saying yes to the promotion was one thing with all her fears of how the department would react, but actually trying to work with them, with people who had a unified low opinion of her. That was something else.

The boy would come around she thought; with a bit of food, some sleep and the promise to find his mother. She was almost certain he wouldn't run off given the chance, although, she would have to make him see the benefit of staying. Otherwise he would most surely be off the first chance he got.

The team was another hurdle. True to his word Andy Flynn had been almost civil, at least until he had felt inclined to give her a piece of his mind. Not that she expected it to go smoothly, but it would have been nice if it had.

She let out another sigh, rolled her shoulders to alleviate some of the pressure that nestled between her shoulder blades. Major Crimes might be different from internal Affairs in many ways, but over the years she had dealt with her fair share of conflicts. She was not in completely foreign waters.

Still, she kept going back to the little confrontation down in the morgue. The lieutenant had expected a full blown yelling contest, and she would have obliged him had his words not given her insight into their case. In retrospect she found it comedic; he had been surprised she had not yelled back, genuinely, and then he had uncharacteristically shut his mouth and gone with her brainstorming into solving the case. Andy Flynn was the least of her worries.

She was more worried about the other veteran lieutenant in the squad. She had never seen eye to eye with Provenza, and working out their differences seemed, at the present time, impossible. The man was still mumbling about her sending him and his old partner to sensitivity training decades back, as if she had done him an unforgivable personal grievance when in reality he had been the utter ass.

She sighed, she needed to relax and at the moment only three things would help; a long bath, another glass of wine, and a dreamless sleep. Unfortunately none of that were going to happen. She couldn't soak an hour in the tub when the bathroom was occupied by young mister Beck. And she really shouldn't drink more than one glass with an early day tomorrow. That left a dreamless, peaceful sleep. She was certainly tired enough for it to happen, but with her luck, she would probably dream about corpses and impossible lieutenants.

A knock on her front door interrupted her train of thought. The sound was intrusive and a complete surprise seeing that it was late in the evening, and usually she knew about visitors in advance. Sharon let out a sigh, threw the pillow to the side and then got up to answer the door. Most likely it was just some nosy neighbor wanting to inform her about suspecting a teenager selling drugs or something.

The person knocked again, this time three knocks in succession that sounded a little too chipper, and somehow those three knocks kicked in the back of her mind like a déjà vu. Even if she was surprised at seeing Andy Flynn on the other side of her door, she already knew it would be him.

The lieutenant wore a sheepish expression that bordered on apologetic.

Sharon greeted him with a cordial, "Lieutenant Flynn?"

"Captain," Flynn said back, his eyes taking her in, "Is this a bad time?"

"It depends...," she replied and then paused.

"On?"

"On your reason for knocking on my door at ten in the evening," She left it implied that he better have a very good reason. But her answer only brought forth a smug smile from him, all traces of contriteness gone.

"I wanted to see how my new boss was faring," he answered. She looked for any indication that his words were false but he seemed genuine even if there was an undertone of teasing behind his words.

"Your new boss," she elongated the word boss, putting extra emphasis on her title to make him understand the nature of their new relationship, "is doing marvelous." Without really meaning to, her words sounded sarcastic.

The lieutenant quirked an eyebrow obviously zeroing in on her not intended sarcasm.

"Good," he added.

She gave him a strained smile.

"And the little psycho?" he asked in a hushed voice, leaning forward and looking over her shoulder as if he was expecting to see Rusty standing behind her, "Is he giving you any trouble?"

"Don't call him that," she whispered back, her eyes narrowing in disapproval.

"The little troublemaker then?"

She rolled her eyes and then crossed her arms, "Mr. Beck will do just fine."

"Ah c'mon, I thought we agreed to be cordial."

"To a certain point," she smiled, throwing his own words back at him and feeling as if she had won that round.

"Touché," he shook his head, amused.

They stared at each other, silence stretching awkwardly.

"The kid alright though?"

She tilted her head and gave him back a quirked eyebrow, "So in reality you came here to check up on the material witness?"

"Of course, Sharon," he replied sarcastically not even aware that he had called her by her first name, "Why else would I be here?"

She rolled her eyes again, "Oh I don't know, you tell me, why would an infamous troublemaker be knocking on my door, if not to make trouble?"

That earned her a smile from him. They looked at each other for a short second, smiles exchanged before silence became heavy and she looked away.

"I am sorry about going off on you," he finally admitted and in that moment she knew had had come to apologize in his own roundabout way.

She shrugged, "All forgotten."

He looked doubtful, "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He smiled in relief.

"Just don't make it a habit," she added with a small hidden smile, her tone serious, "I'd hate to have to send off one of my lieutenants to sensitivity training."

"Ha, liar," he shook his head, "You'd get a kick out of sending me off to a seminar or two."

"Perhaps," she pursed her lips, "but seeing as you're the only one who's not completely opposed to me in charge of Major Crimes, I'm going to have to keep you around."

"Is that it?" he sounded a bit too happy, "So, that's like a get-out-of-jail free card for me?"

"A onetime use," she replied drily, "If we were playing monopoly."

He shrugged.

"I could always make you my designated desk secretary," she warned him, barely able to keep a smile from breaking her act.

"Whatever," he groused but she saw the smile behind his words and the way his eyes lightened up a bit.

"So, if there's nothing else, I will see you tomorrow morning, lieutenant," she said, her hands on the door.

"Nope," he said, "That was all."

"Good night."

"Good night, Captain," he replied.

Sharon closed the door and stood quietly with her hand on the handle, she felt her mind ease up somewhat. It was nice to know that someone was partially on her side, enough to make her almost positive that sleep would come easily after all.

"What was Lieutenant Flynn doing here?" Rusty asked her out of the blue, the boy stood in the hallway and gave her a suspicious look from out under locks of his unruly hair.

Sharon sent him a soft smile, trying to gauge his mood. There was a definite red look under his eyes and the knowledge that he had hidden away in her bathroom to cry, tore at her heart.

"He wanted to clarify some things for me," she explained.

"Okay," the boy accepted the explanation and continued somewhat sullenly "I am going to bed now," and then he took a blanket from the end of the sofa.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch," Sharon started, but the boy interrupted her.

"Are you going to force me to sleep in your guestroom?" his tone was hard, defensive.

"No," she answered feeling that for now it was better to indulge him. If he wanted to sleep on the sofa for now, he could. She was too tired to argue with him.

"Goodnight, Rusty," she said, watching him settle on the couch, wrapping himself in the blanket.

All she got in return was a low mumble.

…


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, faves and follows, they all brighten my days considerably. I hope you enjoy this. =)

…

 **/2a/**

"Do you _have_ to suck up to her?" Provenza complained sourly as if the man was personally offended by Andy's nonchalant behavior. Andy felt Provenza's eyes burning into the back of his head. The tone was undoubtedly meant to incite Andy into a heated exchange of words that would end up with both of them annoyed beyond reason. There was no uncertainty as to whom Provenza was referring to; there was only one 'her' that had gotten him this riled up the last couple of weeks. Captain Raydor.

Andy concentrated on the coffee machine and the process of making a fresh pot, too tired to take the bait and get into an argument.

"Don't tell me that you, of all people, actually _like_ having her here? Bossing you around?" Provenza continued to prod him.

"She's supposed to boss everyone around," Andy answered dryly, no longer able to hold silent. If Provenza felt inclined to bother him, then Andy would give back in kind. "It's in her job description," he continued, barely restraining himself from adding a 'grow up'.

Provenza groaned and Andy considered that a win in his favor.

Andy looked sideways at his partner and voiced his thoughts on the whole subject, "Honestly, I thought you would be more upset that Pope chose Taylor for Assistant Chief. In the grand scheme of all things atrocious, that is way worse."

Provenza commented in a suffering voice, "I think I might prefer Taylor."

Andy arched an eyebrow, disbelief painting his expression.

"Well, I for one prefer Raydor," he countered and he truly meant it. In his books, Taylor was an ass, and not just an ass, but a big larded one that preferred soft cushions and no complications. In comparison, Sharon had a fine ass and she had never purposefully avoided conflict when it was merited. And more importantly, she would never stick a knife in his back and then deliberately twist it around, unlike some others.

"Yeah, yeah, you prefer the whole deal making process as well," Provenza sighed.

"I fucking love the deal making process," Andy acknowledged, a small tinge of impatience slipping into his voice. "I hate court. The less I see of lawyers, the happier I am. And frankly, the less lawyers see of me, the happier the lawyers are. It's a win-win all around."

Provenza shrugged for reply, but Andy could see the wheels turning behind the older man's eyes, it was something he hadn't really considered; fewer lawyers, and less court time.

"At least the Captain's not a backstabbing snake," Andy pointed out, "Taylor, on the other hand, will hand your ass off to the vultures the moment your back is turned. Trust me, I know from experience."

"Oh no, she'll just recite guidelines and rules till I die of old age," Provenza replied back sarcastically, "she's a hall monitor, not a homicide detective."

"Which is why we are a team of detectives with diverse backgrounds; we all bring something different to the table."

Provenza harrumphed.

"Look," Andy turned fully around from the coffee machine and crossed his arms, "she might annoy the crap out of you, but you know what? Since she's taken over, we haven't once been in trouble with the higher ups, or the mayor, or half of LA's cluster of idiot lawyers, there's no civil suits breathing down our necks. And heck, I'm sure that should we run into trouble, she knows one or two shortcuts from her time in I.A… Pretty handy, huh."

"It's all very exemplary," Provenza pursed his lips and then gave a crooked, sarcastic smile, "You've truly become excellent at kissing ass, and she's not even here to hear it. What a shame." Provenza tutted and then shook his head, sarcasm painting his words.

Andy shrugged, refusing to be goaded into further discussions.

It was practically the same conversation as every other conversation he had had with his partner in the last month. At first it had seemed a lost cause to try and win Provenza over to accepting Sharon, but Andy was beginning to see the small cracks in his partner's resolve. Provenza wasn't protesting as vehemently as he had been in the beginning, he wasn't as contradictory in front of the team anymore and occasionally he even seemed almost polite when he talked directly to the Captain. It was progress.

Andy wagered if he gave it a couple of months, Provenza would have all but forgotten the Captain's previous occupation and would be singing her praises. Beneath the surface, Andy thought the old man was simply missing the chief. They all were to some extent, but change was not necessarily always a bad thing. At least it wasn't a complete stranger taking over the division.

Andy leaned back against the counter that held the coffee machine, watching Provenza mull things over in his own snail-like pace.

"You're still the incident commander," Andy pointed out for the umpteenth time. "You do what you've always done, but instead of dealing with politics and paperwork – which you hate by the way – you get to do the exciting stuff."

"Yeah, yeah."

There was a moment of silence, and then Provenza glared at the coffee machine with a narrowed, disgruntled look.

"We need a new machine," he lamented, effectively changing the topic, "this one is practically ancient."

"Yeah, it belongs in a damn museum," Andy agreed, "I'd like a machine that doesn't sound like it's about to croak on me."

That was another conversation they'd had a million times only Andy did not mind this repetition. There was a comfortableness in knowing another person so well, that having the same mind-dulling conversation over and over did not aggravate him.

They were both quiet for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts – or lack thereof, Andy thought with a grimace. It was entirely too early to be having complicated thoughts. A cup of coffee – or a bucket full – would wake him up and then he could start to compile a list of their suspect's known friends and business partners.

The air had still been early morning brisk when Andy had gone outside to his car an hour earlier. Not that the day would continue in that fashion when there was not a cloud to be seen in the sky or the horizon.

Some days, especially in the early hours of morning before he had drowned a sufficient amount of coffee, Andy wondered what it would be like to retire. Maybe he would finally begin working on that herb garden he had put on his to-do-list for the last ten years, that could save him a trip or two to the farmers market. Or maybe, he would be so bored that he would become one of those annoying retired cops obsessed with digging up their old cold cases? In all honesty, he had a sneaking suspicion he would be the latter, which was an excellent incentive to not retire.

Next to him, Provenza was likewise staring off into space, the old man's forehead creased as if he was having an inner debate.

They were both so preoccupied it felt as if the Captain came out of the blue air, appearing suddenly in the break room as if by magic. They all startled a bit.

"Gentlemen," Sharon Raydor said in greeting, her surprise at seeing both of them quickly hidden behind a professional mask, "Good morning to you."

"Morning," Andy said back, his mouth returning a smile of its own. Seeing her always felt like a delight even back when he hadn't particularly liked her. This morning he felt a certain fondness for her figure, enveloped in one of her neatly-tailored suits; a sharp contrast to the softer flowing of her hair and the curls that made her seem more inviting than when she completely ironed them out.

Provenza expression changed instantly to a look as if he had bitten into a bitter grape and was most displeased about it. His mumbled good morning sounded like the ground rumbling in the aftermath of an earthquake.

"Is the coffee ready?" Sharon asked, entirely disregarding the look Provenza sent her and instead fastened her eyes on the coffee machine with longing.

"This old, crappy machine? Nah, it takes forever and a day," Andy grinned at her. His eyes went to the orange mug she held in her hands. It was obviously her own that she had brought from home, anything that diverged from the simplicity of white and bland was sure to not be LAPD issued. The warm color and the different shape felt like a small glimpse into her life, a fragment of intimacy that was 'just' appropriate for the office.

"In a second or two, I'm sure it will be in desperate need of CPR," Andy joked.

"As long as you don't start kissing the damn thing," Provenza muttered under his breath, "No one wants to see that."

Andy abruptly turned to glare at Provenza, ready to give him a piece of his mind but out of the corner of his eyes he saw the barely hidden smile on the Captain's face as she quickly looked down for second, obviously amused.

Instead of words, Andy simply grimaced at Provenza.

"Do you always arrive this early?" the Captain asked them as she interrupted their staring contest. She leaned back against a table, her shoulders relaxing and her smile looked freer. Andy had a feeling she would have asked if they always bickered like this, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to ask.

"Depends," Provenza answered vaguely.

"Mostly," Andy supplied quickly.

The coffee machine gave off a succession of heavy sputtering, then stopped for an insufferably long time deluding everyone into thinking it was done until it started a low grade sputtering again.

"One could argue, that a new coffee machine was due time in our budget, hmm?" Andy wondered out loud, his eyes seeking out Sharon, "This one is intolerable and a time waster."

"Or maybe you're volunteering to go on morning coffee runs for the foreseeable future, Lieutenant Flynn?" Sharon gave back, her smile easy to mistake for seriousness, "You could bring lieutenant Provenza along."

"I don't do coffee runs," Provenza quickly intervened, his arms crossing in sullen defiance.

"He doesn't run either," Andy commented with a shrug and a lazy smile.

"We have Sanchez for running," Provenza defended himself.

"And Sykes," Sharon intervened.

Provenza gave a nod, half agreeing.

Finally the coffee machine finished brewing, the noise lessening remarkably. Provenza hurried to fill his own cup up first and then with a questionably show of defiance he half jogged out of the break room, muttering something incoherent under his breath.

With Provenza gone, the atmosphere changed considerably, an underlying sense of déjà vu overcoming Andy. He stepped to the side and let Sharon fill her coffee mug up first, watching her in profile. Her brow knitted together and her lips pursed minutely. There was a rosy tint to her cheeks, almost matching the lipstick on her lips.

"Don't worry, he will come around," he said offhandedly as he filled his own cup with coffee.

"Ah," Sharon hummed, her eyes meeting his briefly. There was something hard to decipher in the depths, but if he had to guess, she was feeling a bit pressured, not that she let much show when others were around. That she showed him enough to guess at her true feelings was a subtle invitation.

"Are you settling in alright?" Andy asked curiously, watching her sip her coffee.

"You see me all day, almost twenty-four seven, you know how I'm settling in," she countered, a small slip of humor beneath.

"Well, I am asking you," Andy pointed out with a low voice, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"I am settling in well," she finally answered his question after a prolonged pause, not giving anything away.

Andy raised an eyebrow, giving her a look of disbelief.

"You always this chipper in the morning?" he goaded her with a sarcastic emphasis on chipper, enjoying the minute narrowing of her eyes before she simply smiled.

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," she replied, her eyes holding his.

"You wanna banter words, huh? Just like old times?"

Andy enjoying this back and forth between them, that were slowly but purposefully developing, reminiscent of their past relationship. In fact it had seemed like a lost and irretrievable treasure for a long time, so long that he had buried any notion of getting it back. That it was possible to mend everything and start over, was a second chance he was going to hold onto.

"I want to drink my coffee, in relative peace," she replied simply, taking a sip from her coffee but not moving an inch. She gave him a daring look, raised eyebrow and mouth slightly curved on one side.

"Relative peace? Huh. You used to be more of a morning person," Andy commented and then shook his head, "Heck; you used to like your coffee with a bit of chaos added."

"That must have been a figment of your imagination," she said, tone not giving anything away, "If anyone likes coffee with chaos, it's you. You are the one with an insatiable prerequisite for chaos."

"I just like challenging the system."

That brought out a wider smile, "You like to exasperate me."

"That too."

They shared a laugh that ended with another smile to each other, this time it felt more intimate. Feeling bolstered by her smile and the gleam in her eyes, Andy leaned closer to her. "You know what else?"

She shook her head, pretending to be overly curious and her tone taking on a breathy quality, "No, what?"

"I like seeing you every day, twenty-four seven."

It was not what she had expected, pure surprise evident in her gaze.

"Oh," She looked away, her tongue wetting her lower lip.

"But you see, as nice as it is to see you every day, twenty-four-seven, it really doesn't tell me how you're doing or how you're settling in and all," Andy told her, watching her expression for clues. "I mean, not apart from the fact that you're doing an excellent job as my Captain, but beyond that, I'd like to know how you're doing, you know personally."

"Why are you so interested?"

"We decided to start over, right? Maybe not as friends, but you've gotta agree that we're not exactly your average, every-day working colleagues."

"You want every little detail of my life, is that it? You want to know how I'm finding it challenging but difficult to be in charge of a homicide division, how much I have to restrain myself from making snappy comebacks with Taylor in meetings? How I was practically promised a promotion in rank, but that is apparently not possible? How I would rather Provenza with his excess of knowledge and experience stay on, that it would be nice to be able to work with him amicably, but how I am also close to letting him retire? And then I haven't even touched upon the sullen teenager that I'm suddenly in charge of? And the search for his mother, which so far, has not turned up a single clue!"

That was a full barrage of feelings, Andy thought, steel clear behind her words and the quiet, silent defiance in her eyes pushing him towards acting on his own emotions before he could stop himself. His hand reached out to her elbow, just short of touching. He restrained himself in the last second, mindful of the warning in her eyes.

"See, that wasn't so bad," he joked to let some of the tension dissolve on its own.

She let out a breath.

"Provenza will come around; give him a couple of weeks."

She nodded, her eyes seeking out his again. There was a red tint to her complexion, as if she was embarrassed by her outburst.

"As for Taylor, what can I say – we all have to restrain ourselves to not knock some decency into the guy, nothing new there."

Her lips pulled into a smile and Andy smiled back at her.

"And once the promotional freeze is over, surely you'll be first in line," he continued.

"When did you become so wise?" she smiled teasingly, humor in her tone and her posture more relaxed.

"Some of yours must have rubbed off on me, I guess," Andy retorted quickly, her widening smile contagious.

"Your colleagues are right, you know…you truly do marvel at kissing butt," she commented just short of laughter, her eyes glinting.

"Only when it is your butt," Andy gave back.

Of all things, she blushed and looked away, her lips folding together.

Andy grinned.

…


	8. Chapter 8

...

"Perez sure is popular, huh? Everyone's here," Rantzau from VICE commented in a drawl, the blonde-haired detective wore an unbecoming smirk as he nodded towards the entrance to the bar, "Even the rats found their way," the detective added with a little headshake, aversion in his tone.

Andy reflectively turned to look at the entrance and to his surprise Sergeant Raydor along with two other I.A. officers entered the pub, the trio looking somewhat out of their element as they headed for the main table where Perez was seated. Andy had several years ago been on patrol with the guy, and now the squat detective sat surrounded by a large group of colleagues, celebratory gifts and plenty of beer glasses that kept being refilled as he celebrated his promotion to lieutenant.

Raydor and her colleagues greeted Perez, Andy watched him stand up and give Raydor a hug, and for some reason, watching her embrace the man made him feel weirdly envious. Obviously she felt at ease enough to be herself in the crowd; her wide smile looked genuine from where Andy was seated.

"Perez always had a liking for following the rules, no surprise he invited I.A.," Andy shrugged, not really seeing what the big fuzz was about. Sure, no one particularly liked I.A. but they were not that much of a nuisance.

VICE and a couple of his own buddies from R&H were all avidly following the commotion at Perez' table, eyeing the newcomers with a range of vastly differing emotions. "And I think he was in the same class with Raydor back at the academy," Andy added.

Rantzau grinned, "He can't possibly like the rules more than Raydor."

The others laughed, only it sounded harsh and condescending. Andy kept his jaw closed shut, figuring that defending Raydor once more in public was bound to go wrong. He had promised her that he would keep quiet about their little entanglement, so he should really act like he didn't care, otherwise people would certainly start to notice. Not that he really cared very deeply about anyone else's opinion.

"Too bad she's got a stick stuck up her ass," Leavy said, his smile dark and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Raydor, "Otherwise I wouldn't mind showing her a little love, if you know what I mean."

Andy ignored the comment and exercised restraint to the best of his ability. There were way too many witnesses in the bar, and Leavy was not only taller than Andy but also of a heavier, stockier build. The guy did the heavy weights at the gym daily, and his muscles bulged beneath his t-shirt to a point where Andy thought the other man might be taking steroids. To start anything with the moron was a sure ticket to a concussion. Not to forget a mind-dulling anger management course if his Captain heard about another scuffle involving Andy.

The other's continued to talk, low patronizing words being circulated, but Andy only pretended to listen and instead he fastened his eyes as surreptitiously as he could on Raydor. It was a pleasant surprise to see her again in the flesh. He felt a surge of excitement rushing through his body every time he just looked at her. And even if it was two months since the seminar, it felt as if it were only yesterday they had slept together. Andy couldn't deny that there was something about her that enticed him fully.

After exchanging pleasantries with Perez, she took a seat at a table near the windows in the far corner while the other two I.A. officers went up to the bar for provisions. Andy was too fascinated by her to look away. Like everyone else present, there was little to remind anyone that she was a cop. She wore a white summer dress with red colored flowers and her hair flowed freely down past her shoulders.

Feeling extraordinarily bold, Andy left his own table not caring one bit that what he was about to do would give everyone something to talk about for months.

"Hey stranger," he greeted her as he stopped by her table, his eyes going over her form; she looked even more stunning up close.

His presence startled her, surprise foremost in her eyes when she looked up and, as their eyes connected, a light blush began to form on her cheeks.

"Hi," she replied in a low, almost breathy voice which combined with her red flushed cheeks, only made him that much more eager to kiss her again. To swoop in, a hand on her chin, and kiss her till she came short of breath.

"Mind some company?" Andy asked as he indicated the seat opposite her, waiting for her answer. He didn't want to presume too much; who knew, maybe she only wanted what had happened between them to be a one-time thing.

"If you don't mind being the center of attention, then be my guest," she replied back, her voice more steady as her surprise evaporated. Her mouth folded together, suppressing a smile and her eyes focused on something behind his back.

Andy quickly looked over his shoulder, and unsurprisingly his own table was eyeing him curiously, confusion foremost in their expressions as their foreheads collectively creased. Andy was of a half mind to flip his coworkers off, but instead he merely ignored them, looking back at Raydor with a "who-cares-shrug".

Andy flashed a smile, "Well, those Neanderthals can ogle all they want, I don't mind."

She gave a vague shrug and Andy took it as affirmation, quickly taking a seat opposite her. Her expression became somewhat guarded and if he had to guess, she looked nervous. Her hands disappeared from the table top and her tongue briefly ran out to wet her lower lip, her eyes briefly leaving his to once again look at the idiots behind him.

"How've you been?" Andy asked her, keeping his eyes on her.

"Good," she replied somewhat tersely, not very forthcoming.

Andy nodded.

For a moment, he was at a complete loss; her eyes had a look of expectation and his brain suddenly shut off, not supplying him with anything to say. The silence descended heavy upon them, awkwardness bobbling almost to the point where Andy was sure he was making a fool of himself. He quickly took a sip from the glass with water he had brought with him, happy with the distraction it provided even if it didn't last long. His smile wavered. It was strange. He'd never before had a problem talking to her – or any other woman for that matter – but for some reason, he was nervous.

"What are you drinking?" She asked, her smile as unsure as his own, her eyes on the glass he had brought with him to the table.

"Sparkling water," he replied.

"Oh - are you on call?"

"No, got the whole next two days off."

Silence dominated once again. He felt it like an itch beneath his skin, threatening to dig deeper into his nerves. Andy quickly cleared his throat, deciding to talk, but just as he was about to speak again, he was rather rudely interrupted.

"Um, here you go Sharon," one of the I.A. officers intervened in a squeaky voice, offering Sharon a glass of clear liquid and stood by the table, looking uncomfortably from Raydor to Andy. He obviously did not understand why someone from R&H would be sitting with I.A., unless it was an elaborate prank, and couldn't decide if he should say something or not.

"Thank you, Dennis," Raydor replied, her smile fully relaxed as she directed it at her colleague.

Andy gave _Dennis_ a narrowed, hard look. Evaluating the younger man who lingered by the table as if he didn't think Raydor would be more than capable of telling Andy to get lost if she felt so inclined. Arching an eyebrow, Andy decided Dennis was an idiot; unable to take a hint.

"Goodbye, Dennis," Andy said dismissively.

"I'll – um – just go say hi to Perez… again," the guy said, shrinking under Andy's gaze, his voice uncertain and his eyes searching Raydor's expression for any ambiguity while he kept giving Andy a weird look as well.

"Okay, Dennis," She nodded, and Dennis left their table albeit slowly and somewhat grudgingly. Halfway from the table the idiot turned around and stopped; a look of uncertainty in his eyes as he looked back at them. Andy glared harder, wondering what the hell the kid's deal was. Finally the idiot scampered off completely, joining Perez once more.

Andy let out an exasperated breath and then to cover his annoyance, he took another sip from his sparkling water. When he looked up, Raydor was watching him with an amused expression.

"What?" he asked.

"You can be extraordinarily rude when you set your mind to it," she said, shaking her head a little but the tone was contradicted by her secret smile.

"I wasn't me who interrupted a private conversation," Andy gave back.

"He was bringing me my drink," she arched her eyebrow, "a drink that I ordered and he was kind enough to get it for me. So if we are talking about interruptions, then you're the one who imposed your presence."

"With your blessings though!" he retorted, enjoying how much more natural it felt now than a few moments before, much alike how their conversations usual went when they were in San Diego for the seminars.

He added, "Dennis is a little bit obtuse, isn't he?"

She shook her head, smiling, "I think, you spooked him with your venomous stare."

"Good." He took a sip of water.

Her smile widened, "There's nothing good about being an ass."

"Unless it's a good ass," he disagreed.

She leaned in across the table, her eyes on him with a strange gleam, "Thanks to you, Dennis now thinks you're flirting with me."

"Maybe I am flirting with you?," Andy shot back with the same smile, his eyes briefly going to the beautiful cleavage revealed as she leaned forward.

"The whole bar thinks you're flirting with me," she commented as she casually leaned back and sipped from her own drink, "Trying your hand at pursuing me."

"I'll tell them I was devastatingly unsuccessful."

She shook her head, "You look entirely too pleased with yourself for someone being rejected."

"I'll tell them you took pity on me, and let me try some of my moves on you."

"Your moves?" she enunciated the words slowly as if she were tasting them out, humor pronounced in her crinkled eyes, "What moves would that be? Enlighten me."

"You know – _moves_ ," he winked before he sipped his water.

She looked down effectively hiding her smile, but not before Andy noticed the width of it.

"So, what're you drinking?" Andy nodded at her drink, changing the subject, happy that the conversation didn't feel so strained anymore. The atmosphere was instead light and playful.

"Sparkling water," she smiled.

"Ah, it's a good batch, you can almost taste the faucet it came from! Here's to sparkling water!" Andy held his glass up, mouthing cheers as he clinked it against her glass and they each took a respective sip of water.

They watched each other for a moment, both silent and somewhat contemplative even if they exchanged smiles.

"What are you up to today?" Andy asked, feeling entirely too vulnerable for such a simple question. "I mean, besides this?"

"Grocery shopping," she answered with a shrug.

"Sounds exciting," he playfully teased her.

"Oh, you have no idea," she gave back, her tone mockingly pretentious, "I even have a whole list of what I need to buy, ready to be dotted off."

Andy smiled, "You're a list person, huh?"

"Naturally."

"So," Andy started, psyching himself up, and then cleared his throat before asking her what he had wanted to for a while now, "You want to meet up for a cup of coffee someday?"

"Coffee?" she repeated, her eyes widening fractionally.

"Yeah, you know, have a cup or two, maybe find a nice café, talk a bit – that kinda stuff."

She cleared her throat and then smiled tentatively, "Are you asking me out on a date, sergeant?"

Andy held her eyes, "If you want to…or, if it is not your thing, then it could just be coffee."

"My days are filled up," she started to say, looking apologetic of all things. "I mean, I don't usually have a lot of time to myself," she admitted with a small smile, "and between work, my children and everything else, I really don't have a lot of time left to…" she paused, licked her bottom lip, "see men."

Andy nodded, feeling flat.

She exhaled and then a small strange smile appeared, "But, on the other hand, I do enjoy coffee."

Andy furrowed his brows, not sure what she meant.

She smiled almost self-consciously, "I have confused you, haven't I?"

"Yeah," he nodded, having a hard time keeping his own smile from growing; there was something about her that made him want to smile, large and wide, even if she was not making a lot of sense.

She briefly looked at her wristwatch and then looked up again, her eyes bright, "Maybe I could find time for a cup of coffee with a work colleague."

Andy raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Work colleague?"

She looked uncomfortable, her silence making him nervous.

"I mean, I'm not looking to date – at the moment," she admitted, her tone lowering and her appearance appearing defensible for a split second.

Andy shrugged and tried his best to keep his disappointment out of his voice, "That's fine. We'll just get coffee, like colleagues, and exchange war stories or something."

They continued to talk, staying clear of more dating talk as the evening came to a close and most of the bar guests disappeared until there was only Perez left with a small group of people. When she began to look at her wristwatch more often, Andy suggested they called it a night. Despite everything, he enjoyed talking with her, watching her expressions and making her smile, so much that everything else paled in contrast.

They said their respective goodbyes to Perez and then walked side by side to the parking lot. The street lights were just about to turn on and the car lot was half empty, the evening air brisk. Andy walked with his hands in his pockets, mulling over how to say goodbye to her. God, he just wanted to kiss her.

The atmosphere between them was different out here, darkness and solitude bringing out a different side. Andy felt, if at all possible, even more mesmerized by her. He glanced sideways only to find her occupied by her steps, a light blush forming on her cheeks and her eyes briefly flickering to his before they quickly skirted away again. She had become unusually quiet since they left the bar.

"My car is this way," she said, pointing to a side street to the bar, a dark and narrow one-way street.

"I'll walk you to it," Andy said, determined, he was, if anything, a gentleman and even if she could easily handle herself, it would at least give him more time with her.

"Oh – well, okay," she smiled, the tone soft.

Once they reached her car, she turned around and looked at him, expectation once again clear in her gaze.

"You didn't have to follow me all the way to my car," she said.

Andy shrugged and then told her the truth, "I wanted to."

She smiled back and then licked her lower lip, her eyes flickering to his mouth. Neither of them really knew what to say, and yet she did not appear to be in a hurry to get into her car.

Throwing caution to the wind, Andy stepped forward and captured her lips in a kiss. She kissed him back. Her lips slowly touching his as they kissed, going from slow to something a little quicker and without restraint, all hesitance from earlier evaporating. He felt bolstered by excitement and arousal, so much that he took another step forward and pressed her back against her car door, covering her body with his.

His heart sped up erratically as the kiss deepened, the impression of her body against his, tightening his lower abdomen into a coiling sensation. He cupped her head with one hand, angling for better access. She tasted just like he remembered, and her scent once more enveloping him fully.

When they broke apart, both a little short of breath, he watched her closely. Her chest heaved from shortness of breath and her mouth was slightly apart. The flush had deepened on her cheeks and there was a reckless light in her eyes that seemed to dance with desire.

"I guess you don't have time to come back with me to my place," Andy whispered, enticed by the display of emotion in her eyes. Even in the dim light, her expression was a myriad of feelings.

Her lips curved, "Grocery shopping, remember?"

Andy leaned in and kissed her again, not caring one bit that they were out in the open. He caught the small intake of air she took before she kissed him back, her hands coming to rest on his neck and shoulders.

He broke away from her lips and then leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I want to take you away and fuck you senseless."

Her eyes sought out his, and in amidst surprise, flushed skin and full lips, there was also a spark of dark arousal in her eyes. He kept hers locked with his, he knew that his eyes could not hide the raw desire he felt for her this moment.

"Oh, okay – yes, I mean, that's -," she rambled, her words coming out in a quick succession without coherency, "I – erm."

Andy chuckled, "Cat's got your tongue?"

She flushed a shade deeper.

"I mean," he leaned even closer this time, almost able to taste her skin, "If you only want it to be a one-time-thing, I'm gonna back off – we'll go back to whatever we used to be, acquaintances. However, in honor of disclosing everything, I would love to fuck you again."

"You have such a way with words," she replied back, a bit of her usual strength coming back.

"I say what's on my mind."

She smiled, "I don't mind, it's very refreshing."

"Yeah?"

She hummed.

"I can't exactly bring you home for a quick one, if that's what you had in mind," she quirked an eyebrow back at him.

"I was thinking we could book a hotel or something. Find a night, or day, that suits us both."

This time her smile took a self-conscious look, "I don't know how I would feel about that."

"I'll find a nice place – less sleazy than the one in San Diego," he explained.

"So what exactly would we be doing?" she asked.

"I would be doing you," Andy joked and was happy when it earned him a genuine smile.

"I figured that much, sergeant," she replied dryly.

"We would be meeting up and have sex," he clarified for her, more serious, "friends with benefits, that sorta deal."

"How romantic," she commented sarcastically, though her eyes didn't seem too turned off by the idea.

"Well, you didn't seem particularly hooked on the idea of dating," he gave back, "I mean, if you want romance, I can do that, just as long as we're clear on what you want."

"Oh no, just sex is fine for me," she answered quickly, but then avoided his eyes.

He nodded.

"I'm not ready for anything besides sex," she said as an afterthought, her brows knitting together after she had said it, as if the truth of statement was novel to her, a moment of clarity.

"I get that," he said, and he did – emotions just messed things up, and if anyone had asked him 4 years ago, fresh out of his own divorce, he would not even had been ready for sex, let alone dating. He had a hard enough time just staying sober back then. Broken hearts were not easy to mend, and he guessed she was still collecting the shards of hers and putting it back together.

She smiled self-consciously, "I can't believe we're having this conversation, and here of all places!"

Andy grinned and then instead of answering, he kissed her again, happy to indulge himself, his hands going to her bottom, squeezing and bringing her flush up against his erection. He liked the small giggle she kissed him back with.

…


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you for the lovely feedback every single one of you. =) The next update might take a little while – mostly because of summer holidays ;)

…

"You want something a little stronger to calm your nerves, buddy?" the bartender asked in a tone no doubt meant to be inviting and friendly, but it only came across as grating to Andy.

Andy turned his attention away from the hotel's entrance and fixed the bartender with a scathing look. The guy was around his own age, bright blue eyes and a smile that was a little too polished for Andy's liking. Too false. The other man's hands were braced on the bar counter closing in on Andy's personal space. The sugary tone was directed at the non-alcoholic drink Andy was cradling in one hand; sparkling water mixed with cranberry juice.

"I'm alright, _pal_ ," Andy replied with a mocking smile, "My _nerves_ are just fine."

The bartender's expression changed, pity coming out to play in the even more fake smile. Andy lifted his glass with an arched eyebrow, daring the idiot to say another word. The ice cubes bobbed in the glass like buoys, clinking softly as he took a sip.

The last thing Andy needed was a chatty bartender. Putting on a get-lost sneer, he watched the other man shrug and then saunter down to the other end of the bar, finding another customer needing his attention.

Andy drowned the last of his drink and then went back to watching the entrance attentively. The revolving doors let in a middle-aged couple dressed extravagantly, the sound of the woman's heels clicking against the marble floor loud as it echoed. Not for the first time, Andy wondered if he should have worn a suit instead of the causal jeans and leather jacket he had opted for. The more people that came through the hotel's entrance, the more out of his element he felt. It was kind of ironic seeing he had picked the hotel in the first place.

In what was far from the norm Andy had arrived a half hour early to the date that really wasn't a date; he still wasn't completely sure what to call the hook-up. From his seat at the bar, he had a clear view to the lobby and the entrance. He had already checked in and the key card was safely deposited in his wallet.

The bartender must have zeroed in on Andy's apprehension. It was a strange concoction of excitement and tenseness that rolled together into one spiraling emotion that made him feel on edge. It simmered beneath his skin to the point where it became uncomfortable to sit still, itching for him to move, to do something.

It was the first time they had managed to find a suitable day to meet, their schedules did not leave much room to maneuver, and so it was close to 3 weeks since they had accidentally met at Perez's party.

Half an hour was an extraordinarily long time to think about everything involving this whole deal. Enough time to bring out every insecurity he felt. What if she didn't show? What if she'd changed her mind? What if – against all odds – it wasn't like it had been in San Diego? Not for the first time, he berated himself for not inviting her out to dinner first. That way they could have eased into sleeping together again, in a more natural pace. As it was, he felt like a spring coiled to its breaking point.

Punctual as ever, she arrived as the clock struck nine, her figure encased in a sleek navy blue dress and blazer. She carried a black bag in one hand, the design and simplicity of it more aesthetically pleasing than the tattered duffel bag Andy had brought with him. When her eyes settled on his, her lips curved upwards and he watched, mesmerized, as she walked across the lobby heading his way.

The sight of her was enough to instantly set his blood boiling; enough to hungrily ignite a thirst for ravishing her on the spot, her lips shining vividly as she came closer, red and full lips that parted and pressed together before evolving into a full smile. Andy hopped off the bar stool, snatched up his duffel bag and then hurried across the lobby, meeting her halfway.

"Hi sergeant," she said, her voice soft as she said his rank.

"Hey stranger," Andy replied back, his own smile hard to contain. In a spur of the moment, he leaned towards her, his lips on her cheek for a briefest of seconds, greeting her. His nerves had abated from the moment she made her entrance, her presence was calming and as he stood close to her, his mouth against her cheek, he was enveloped in a warm scent that he was beginning to associate with her exclusively.

The kiss on her cheek surprised her, her breath warm as she inhaled a little surprised.

Darkness pervaded outside the hotel like a veil against reality in some way, encasing them in a bubble. It reminded him of San Diego. They moved to the elevators in sync, exchanging barely hidden glances of anticipation as they walked side by side, shoulders just shy of touching. At the elevators after pushing the button, Andy placed his hand on the small of her back and kept it there, the fabric warm and soft against his palm. Her eyes briefly sought his out when he touched her, her tongue visible as it wet her bottom lip.

The atmosphere was intense and humid as if they stood in an enclosed container waiting for everything to set into motion, just the two of them. They waited silently for the elevator to arrive, the temptation to stand even closer to her felt like a strong magnetic pull. He wanted to lean in and kiss her lips, to impress his own body into hers. The attraction felt like a force of nature, potent and reckless, and nearly beyond control.

"You found a babysitter?" Andy asked her as silence descended upon them, his nerves reappearing and making its presence known in his voice for a short moment.

"No, I let my 6-year old babysit my 4-year old," she replied sarcastically, the tone tempered by the smile in her eyes as she looked at him.

He smiled at her, finding, of all things, her sarcasm a turn-on.

"Do you come here often?" she asked him, her head tilted fractionally to the side as she regarded him.

"Oh yeah," Andy deadpanned as he shook his head, "I earn so much as a sergeant, why not spend it all on fancy hotels, right?"

Her smile widened, "So this is not a preferred place for you to bring women?"

He grimaced, "Nah, first time I'm setting my foot in this place."

She simply shrugged and before Andy could ask her why she thought he would be regularly visiting fancy hotels with women, the elevator came down to the ground floor. The doors opened and a whole throng of people came bursting out, high joyous voices, strong scents of perfume and breaths that smelled of sweet champagne.

With his hand to her back, he quickly moved them sideways to avoid being trodden on. Once they were in the empty elevator, Andy pushed the button for ninth floor and turned to face Raydor.

"Did you solve the missing person's case you were on?" Raydor asked him as the carriage set into motion, genuine curiosity in her voice.

"Yeah, turned out to be a murder case instead."

"Oh," she hummed, the sound a little remorseful and her forehead creased, "really?"

Andy hummed, "Yep, freak buried his wife out back with the compost."

She grimaced.

"Real psycho that one," Andy added. "We caught him just as he was about to bludgeon his neighbor."

"His neighbor?" she sounded surprised.

"He fancied her," Andy shrugged, knowing this added to the incredulous story.

Her eyebrow rose in disbelief, "He fancied his neighbor – so he bludgeoned her?"

"Yeah, like I said, he's a real piece of work. Luckily, the neighbor got away with only a concussion. The creep later admitted, he'd had a thing for her for years – and I don't know, one day something clicked in the wrong place, and he got rid of the wife and then thought he could pursue the neighbor."

She shook her head, "How's the case against him? Will it hold up in court?"

"It's rock solid. Not only did he confess – more than once – but he's pleading guilty last I heard."

She nodded.

It wasn't exactly the perfect topic to begin their evening with but Andy didn't mind. He seldom met people he could talk work with, and the few colleagues he liked in R&H were more accustomed to drinking than talking.

On the ninth floor, they stepped out and then followed the corridor to the left. Andy glanced at Raydor by his side, his hand once again on the small of her back; she didn't seem to mind, her look distant as if she was thinking about something complicated.

"I heard you became popular in Narcotics," Andy teased her, happy to change topic, "Busted a few rotten leeks, huh?"

She made a funny grimace, "Stealing cocaine from the evidence locker for private use is not the LAPD's finest moment."

"Who was it?"

She gave him a shocked look, "I can't tell you."

"What? I'll keep it to myself," he grinned amused.

She rolled her eyes, "That's not the point."

"Of course not, Poppins," he teased her, happy, and a little relieved, when she smiled back.

"I am positive, however, that if you think about it for a second or two, you'll know exactly who it was," she then told him, a wry inward smile.

"With all those knuckleheads in one division, it's a tough one to guess," Andy chuckled, "Could be any one of them."

She rolled her eyes.

"I bet you read them the riot act, huh," he leaned sideways, bumping his shoulder softly with her, "Hexed them into the next century and all that."

She gave him a wry look, "Are you trying to imply something, sergeant?"

Andy grinned, taking note of the underlying slip of humor in her tone, "Not at all."

They finally arrived at the correct room, coming to a stop at the golden plate with the number 916 on it. The atmosphere changed again, like charged electricity in the air, invisible to the naked eye but tangible on some level as it simmered between them, the vision of what was going to happen behind the door magnified now that they stood in front of it. Andy fumbled for the keycard in his wallet, feeling his neck heat up as he wrongly got his credit card the first time.

"Wrong one," he said to cover his nerves, offering a smile.

He got a nervous smile in return, Raydor seemed to hold in a breath, her eyes on the lock.

Finally he got the right card, and unlocked the door.

"After you," Andy said, gesturing towards the open door. She smiled and then walked in, Andy's eyes on her behind as she walked in front of him.

The moment the hotel room door closed behind them, Andy backed her up against the closed door, his lips hungrily on hers, his duffel bag easily deposited on the floor without much care.

Not counting masturbating, he hadn't had sex in almost three months now and he felt heat scourge through him, ready to be let out as if it had been a caged animal. The reckless lust for her had built up excruciatingly fast after they had kissed in the alley behind the bar at Perez's party.

She seemed to melt within his embrace; her lips pliant against his, the little sigh he felt vibrate against his lips tingling. She let go of her own bag, the thing landing on the floor with a soft thump.

Andy deepened the kiss and felt her respond. She let out another little sound, not really a gasp but close to it when he backed her further up against the door, his lips hard on hers. It sounded like a rushed 'sergeant'.

"You can call me Andy, you know," he broke the kiss and whispered in her ear, his hands finding their way from her waist to her bottom, squeezing as he guided her hips to his groin.

She smiled invitingly, her voice like an invisible caress, "I know."

He let his hands roam down her waist and then began to lift the hem of her dress up, all the way till he could slip his hand under the band of her underwear and roll the garment down enough for him to touch her. She was wet when he slid his fingers through her folds, her legs parting as he caressed his fingers back and forth, rubbing over her clit. Her eyes closed and her mouth parted, her breath sweet on his face.

Keeping his hand beneath her underwear, two fingers circling and flicking, he leaned in and captured her lips again, this time intent on kissing her till she couldn't breathe, till she was left on an edge and came undone.

…


	10. Chapter 10

…

Since San Diego a string of scenarios ran through Sharon's head whenever she lay in bed late at night. Whenever her children were sound asleep and her bedroom encased in boundless darkness that permitted fantasies to flutter into life. There was something uniquely beckoning about the hours surrounding midnight and her lonely double bed brought forth self-indulgent fantasies, the amplitude ranging from heated images of sex that burned through her like a bonfire in the darkest night of winter to more innocent scenarios. She tried to stay clear off those innocent images as they all had a bearing of domesticity; of hand holding, of making dinner together, of talks that carried with it unspoken support, of silent nights spent lying close to someone who cared and drowsing off to a peaceful sleep. The sex fantasies felt safer in the end. They weren't treacherous in their groundwork; a double-edged sword where she would end up hurting herself. Sex was simple – it was easier to succumb to, and when it inevitably came to an end, it wouldn't break her heart.

When they had finally found a suitable day to meet up, her fantasies flourished like a spring flower bud in bloom. Her senses became invaded by the images of delving into soft silk sheets and warm naked skin. Even if the notion of meeting up for a night of sex in a hotel felt a little crude to her, it was quickly overridden by the excitement she felt. She figured it was akin to a day at the spa; she was going to get pampered, sleep in a clean bed with a warm body and she would wake up to breakfast; not too bad.

Presently the sergeant had her firmly trapped between his own body and the sturdy hotel room door. Their room was bathed in a low hue of light, shadows playing in the spacious room. She responded to his kiss, her own excitement expanding as his body pushed into her, his lips hungrily devouring hers.

It was something she had had a hard time imagining in her fantasies; the exact feel of his body against hers, the form taller and larger than hers, his lips eager to kiss her as if he was discovering something new and arousing, and his rough hands paradoxical with a gentle feel to them. She had given it a lot of thought, tried to pin down the essence of their connection and the essence of him, and she had come to a revelation; she felt wanted without restriction with him. There was no pressure in their relationship, nothing to make her feel uncertain and there was no underlying current of hesitation. It was simple. It was safe. She felt careless.

"I've thought about you," Sergeant Flynn broke off the kiss to tell her, his voice low and husky, effortlessly striking a cord within her body. Her lower abdomen tightened in response as he pressed more firmly into her, the door reassuringly hard against her back. He had snuck one hand down her underwear, his skin soft and warm against hers, his fingers teasing wet folds.

She felt like fire incarnated; heat swept unhindered through her making her body flushed and hot.

"I've thought about this," he said in between leaving a hot trail of kisses along her neck. He worked his fingers, going in a painstakingly slow circle against her sex.

"Specifically, I've thought about making you come," he punctuated his statement just as his finger ghosted across her clit, "I want to hear you come, feel you come."

His eyes traced her face, pupils glinting and then his mouth pulled into a smile, "I've thought about you a lot."

"You have?" It was almost painful to breathe, pleasure taking on the quality of weight against her chest as he slowly caressed just around her clit with his fingers, his eyes intently on her. She felt speechless.

"Yeah," he breathed, his lips nearing hers again, "You have been fucking stuck on my mind."

His lips covered hers once more, insistent and warm, enveloping her in a strange hazy sensation highlighting the feeling of his fingers against her clit.

"Sergeant," Sharon started to say, pulling a little back from his lips. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but she needed to expel some of the surplus energy inside her. Her voice sounded estranged, like she was on the precipice of a moan.

"Andy," he intervened, his mouth pulling into a roguish smirk, "Unless you get off on calling me sergeant." He ended it with a chuckle, humor warm in his eyes.

"Andy -," she smiled, his name rolling off her lips more easily. She wanted to tell him how much she had looked forward to their night; that she had thought about him too, but just then he touched her clit again, sliding back and forth, and all words left her. Instead her voice hitched and it came out like a small moan.

His finger slipped over her clit with more pressure now, back and forth, and then he leaned into her, his hand going further under her underwear and one finger went up into her. She got swept away this time, her eyes closing of their own will.

"I want to make you come again and again," he whispered, the voice raw and full of promise, "all night."

His finger pulled out, slow and wet, and then he came back to circling her clit, this time gliding more easily back and forth in a quickened tempo. She spiraled further and further into pleasure, the volume of it intensifying till it became nearly unbearable.

"I am not going to object to that," she managed to whisper back, her own voice sounding like a weak echo of itself, ready to collapse in on itself.

He smiled cheekily, "I didn't think so."

"Cocky, huh," she retorted back, her voice nearly humming with pleasure.

"Yeah," he simply nodded, his smile containing a whole world of promise.

"I've thought about you too," she let him in on.

His mirth spread across his features at her statement and he leaned in, his lips capturing hers as he pressed more firmly against her. His fingers caressed a path around her clit that kept her on a strange edge of inadequacy; she needed just a little more pressure to be able to come, so close to going over the edge that she strained for the last bit.

She kissed him back, her hands finding his shoulders for support, her fingers going into the hair at his nape, grasping the strands when he meticulously avoided her clit as he circled. Instead he prolonged pleasure to the point where she angled her hips towards his fingers. Practically begging for sweet release.

Instead, his finger circled her entrance before sliding up into her, in and out, his smile widening.

"You're so goddamn wet," his voice rumbled in her ear as he slowly pulled his finger out only to slide it in again, "You've got me rock hard, you know."

This time she smiled, her eyes traveling briefly down, the thought of his cock inside her enough to tighten her abdomen even further, turning it into a tensed coil, ready to leap.

"Are you going to tease me all night?" she asked him, hurrying her words and suppressing a smile of her own, "I thought you said you wanted to make me come – all night."

"I will."

"Prove it," she angled her hips, feeling his fingers going further into her. She let out a sigh, her body more than ready to feel release.

"So impatient, huh?" he tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes and a damnable sweet smile on his lips. She hummed and then closed her eyes again, concentrating solely on his finger that insisted on going slower now.

She was just about to protest when he pulled his finger out entirely, but then he pressed the pad of his finger against her clit, the motion effortless as he glided his finger back and forth. The intensity of it was much higher now, his finger wet from her own juices and caressing easily back and forth, alternating between how much force he put into it. Some kind of estranged sound left her lips when he changed the rhythm and direction of his circling, abruptly pushing her over the edge. She felt herself contracting, her climax running through her akin to an electrical current, the force of it thrashed through her and left her soundlessly coming.

If she had any doubts about this whole arrangement – and she'd had more than a few - then they all crumbled away, leaving her raw, naked and hungry for more, only capable of existing in this moment.

Before she had time to fully collect herself, she felt his hand leave her underwear only to pull the cloth down her legs till it strangled her ankles. He then hoisted her dress fully up, bunching it above her hipbones. When she finally got her bearings and opened her eyes, his wide grin regarded her and his eyes went south with a gleam.

"Turn around," he demanded, a tinge of rawness in his voice.

The luxurious double bed was not far away from where they stood, the bedsheet cover was neatly done and the heavy wooden frame of it reminding her of old oak, but somehow she found it all the more exciting to simply turn around and let him fuck her up against the simple hotel room door. Guided by his hands, she turned around and braced her arms against the wooden door, waiting with bated breath as she listened to him unzipping his jeans and rolling on a condom. He moved closer and she briefly felt the heat of him against her back and bottom before his member came to rest against her entrance.

She managed to take a deep breath and then he slid into her, thick and hard, going deeper than she had anticipated. She couldn't stop a quiet sound from escaping her lips; she still felt the remnants of her climax, sensitive as he retracted and then thrust into her with more force, her walls threatening to contract again.

She braced her hands more firmly against the door and leaned further into his thrusts, holding her breaths everytime he slid into her, afraid she would make too much noise if she let go. When he began to speed up, slapping against her, she closed her eyes tighter, trapped by the feeling of a tight ball inside her that threatened to break into a million pieces of fire. He grunted quietly in pleasure with each pull and thrust.

"Touch yourself," he guided her between a heavy pant, his voice like gravel. His hands held firmly onto her hips, warm and rough as they guided the angle and position.

She did not give it much thought; all coherencies had left her the moment she came. Despite feeling too raw to come again, she only wanted to come again. The singularity of her thoughts centered exclusively on reaching that goal. She shifted her weight onto one arm braced against the door and the other she snuck in between her thighs, the pad of her forefinger barely touching her clit before she felt the pleasure of it. It was too much; too raw. She swallowed and then skirted past her clit, circling herself and tracing a pattern that caressed around her most sensitive area instead.

"Fuck," the sergeant grunted behind her, his voice heavy with pleasure. She couldn't help but smile at the noise. He sounded close to reaching climax himself. With that in mind, she allowed herself to touch the more sensitive parts of her sex. The feeling of it pulsed through her, a strangled noise leaving her lips, low and barely noticeable; a sound that came trapped in humidity. She touched herself, the length of him filling her up as he fucked her. Her senses and existence was for a small second solely and exclusively revolved around liquid pleasure igniting within her body.

She came a second time, her body twisting itself into an even tighter ball before it released her into an explosion of painful pleasure. It resounded in her head, overrode all her senses sand she barely heard him pant out behind her, his thrusts lessening up. He grunted in pleasure as her walls contracted around him.

His hand came to rest next to hers, his groin warm and slightly sweaty against her.

"Did you come?" she asked, still submerged in her own world of post-climax.

"Not yet," he answered, he was still hard inside her, "I'm trying to prolong it –so as not to come in under a minute – it is quite hard with you."

She smiled.

"I want to take my time with you," he whispered in her ear, the quality of his tone rousing her from the drowsy feeling of her climax. She felt his member slip out of her, leaving a small trace of wetness against her inner thigh.

"Let's move to the bed, huh?" he leaned in close, his hand on her ass squeezing playfully. She gave a simply nod.

Straightening up, she stepped out of her underwear and her dress fell down again and covered her body once more. She quickly got rid of her blazer and left it on the arm of a chair. She left her bag on the chair as well and then took off her dress, eyeing the sergeant taking off his clothes near the end of the bed. His own bag, an old duffel bag, was by his feet.

With a shared smile, once they both stood naked, they met halfway for a kiss as they stumbled together, enveloped in each other's arms and falling toward the bed.

…


End file.
